


The Heart of The Forest

by shyserious



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Louis, Alpha Zayn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Wolves, Animal Instincts, Animalistic Behaviour, Beta Liam, Cheeky Harry, Cuddle Or Suffer, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Full Shift Werewolves, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Intimacy, Loneliness, Love, M/M, My new favourite tag lol, Needy Harry, Nesting, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, No Smut, Omega Harry, Omega Niall, Pack, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Scent Marking, Scenting, Touch-Starved, Werewolves, Wolf Instincts, Wolf Pack, Wolves, as always, most likely, omega biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyserious/pseuds/shyserious
Summary: Harry is left touch-starved and unsteady after Niall moves away and on with his life. Harry has always had a hard time finding his place within the pack and now, with his rapidly suffering health, he's forced to do something about it.It was supposed to be a simple four day trek through the forest...-Or: an excuse to write more wolves and cuddles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soo, I may have finally given into the temptation to just write more wolfy cuddles…
> 
> If you’re looking for a serious, complex plot and strong reasoning behind characters’ actions, you most likely won’t find it here, haha. Honestly, this was just me writing whatever first came to my lil brain. I decided not to care too much how predictable this would be and how many clichés I included, or if I had already done it before.  
> I just wanted cuddles and sulky puppies… Nothing I haven’t written before. Wolfy cuddles! ... Don’t judge me! :’) 
> 
> Long story short, I wanted to dive deeper into the whole touch-starvation trope I’ve dabbled in my other stories, and then this happened. 
> 
> \- This is un-beta'd and English is not my first language. / Please do not repost, translate, or add on other sites. / Disclaimer: None of this is real nor does this reflect anything or anyone in real life. -

With an aching, uncomfortable stretch Harry rose from where he had been halfheartedly watching the cubs of his pack wrestle. The familiar thrum of an ongoing hint of a migraine was pulsing behind his eyes, the muscles of his neck probably forever punched up with it.

No one paid him much attention as he sluggishly trotted towards the steep rise of the valley-edge, his skin feeling tight as he moved further away from his den. Harry was groggy and cranky, but when was he not, nowadays. His joints felt stiff and swollen, protesting as he slowly braved the climb up the rocky footpath.

 _Bullshit,_ that’s what it was. Harry hadn’t even reached his mid-twenties and his body was feeling like it had been around for centuries. He was proper gasping for breath once he finally reached the far upper edge of the valley, damnit...

Panting and repeatedly licking over his snout Harry paused to allow his lungs a little break from the exertion. He shook out his fur and sighed, tiredly scouting his surroundings to figure out where his destination was.

It wasn’t too hard to find who he was looking for.  

“Fuck off, Styles,” Wylie groaned the second Harry nudged his way under the alpha’s arm.

Mindful of the fire the man was tending Harry rubbed his canine body against the alpha’s chest, quickly trying to settle down in between his bent knees.

Promptly and none too gently Wylie shoved Harry away with a fistful of his fur.

The sharp tug on his coat tingled unpleasantly, the dismissive gesture only adding to it. Harry huffed quietly and shook his fur to get rid of the lingering feeling. It didn’t help much.

Wylie had already turned his attention back to the fire where he was now adding small sticks, the alpha’s indifference clear in the set of his human shoulders.     

Harry was used to it, wasn’t even taking much offence. Wylie had made it clear enough that he already had his omega and didn’t want Harry’s scent lingering around, causing trouble. It was understandable. Annoying, but understandable. Harry wouldn’t have liked it either if his alpha would prance around smelling like someone else.

Not that he had an alpha. Obviously. He wouldn’t be there, rubbing himself all over every available wolf, if that had been the case. Fuck no. Not that there were that many available wolves to begin with... Available for _Harry_ , at least.     

After Niall had left, a little less than a year ago, things had taken a bit of a downwards turn for Harry. Things such as his health. And his social life. Well. Niall had _been_ his social life, stupidly enough, so... The whole thing had been long time coming from the moment Harry had learned the blond was moving to live with his mate’s pack.

There weren’t really anyone who Harry fit in with, which he had quickly came to notice after Niall had left. The pack was big, yeah, but not big enough to allow Harry to pretend there were any new chances to find— _company_. Sure, Harry really, really wanted to find a mate, but that was irrelevant at this point. He just needed _someone_. Friends. People who tolerated him.

Okay, that was a bit harsh. People did tolerate him, most of the time. It was just that Harry kind of needed slightly more than that?

He was an omega, right? Well, it just happened to be that omegas didn’t do that well without a tight knitted inner circle. Without the closeness of friends and a mate. Without connection. Without physical contact.

It was common knowledge. Everyone knew what could happen to a lonesome omega if left unattended. Hell, Harry had known of it ever since he had presented, years ago. Didn’t change the reality that sometimes all of it just creeped in, slowly and sorely.

He couldn’t really blame anyone specific, except maybe himself. He had always been a little bit too content to just spend all of his time with Niall, growing up. No one else had seemed like a friend material, not even back then. Nothing had changed.

Other than everything, of course.

“Lanky out here whoring it again, I see,” Otto greeted as he appeared in the view from behind the two of them. Which, _rude_.

His approaching scent had slithered through the air already a few minutes prior, but without being a complete mind-reader it was never possible to pinpoint someone’s route completely and completely accurately. Harry blamed _that_ when the beta’s sudden words spooked his heart into an overdrive. That, and the hyperaware state his anxious omega-brain had pushed him into.                    

Wylie glanced at Harry with a huffing snort before turning back towards Otto, “You know it.”   

Harry liked to pretend they were actually fond of him, somewhere deep down. Deep, _deep_ down.

It wasn’t that they disliked him, really. Well. Harry wanted to believe it wasn’t that. It was just… Harry was kind of forward? And… Flirty. Touchy-feely in a way that was sometimes a bit much, apparently. It was just how he was, not just because of the stupid omega needs. 

No one took him too seriously because of it, thinking he was just messing about. Which was really unfortunate as sometimes, like most young people, he was _trying_ to be taken seriously. It really didn't help that he was already way past the common, ah... ‘ _Mating age_ ’.

Harry wasn’t even annoyed at such tradition-forced timeline for finding someone; he fucking agreed at this point. Yes, Harry liked to flirt and cuddle and be cheeky, but that didn’t mean he was above craving for that special connection, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t like he would decline if someone would offer to magically materialise a suitable mate for him! He wasn’t even embarrassed to admit it, anymore. The neediness within him was limitless, or so it seemed. And, unfortunately, Harry was a bit of a romantic, too.     

However… With his pretty face, or whatever, he apparently just came off a bit— Ugh... S _lutty_. You know... Rather than genuine. Many seemed to think he’d have a mate already if he wanted to have one and thus were a bit wary of him. Or they were just looking for a good time, which... Harry wasn’t really the type to engage in something like that. Romantic, remember?

That, combined with his flirty, somewhat cheeky demeanor, apparently made him a bit off-putting to others. _Or something_. It wasn’t like Harry had been able to figure it out himself.     
  
_Isolation in beauty_ , Niall had joked teasingly, unhelpfully, whenever Harry had whined about it. But… Whatever it really was, it was now making Harry’s life really fucking unpleasant.  

Harry was lucky he didn’t mind it too much that he had to pester the others for attention. He enjoyed being annoying like that. But. He also couldn’t really afford to mind it. Harry had figured out long ago that if he dwelled on the issue too much _,_ the whole thing would just turn into something unnecessarily ugly and humiliating inside his traitorous, touch-starved mind.

Still, traitorous mind or not, no one wanted to feel like they were unwelcome. No one wanted to think about how they maybe just were _unpleasant_ to be around, or that their presence was inconveniencing others.

And the worst: No one wanted to feel like they were only allowed to stick around out of pure exasperated pity.

The inconvenience of personal feelings and thoughts? There was no one else there to fact check.

Otto sprawled down next to Wylie, leaning back against the large rock that was marking the very heart of the territory. From behind it started the neverending forest, spreading out miles and miles, while on the other side, scattered around the sloping valley, were their dens. Their home.

The rock was a good place if you wanted to see the whole valley. It was also the spot where the younger wolves liked to spend time when they were off pack duties. The fire was nice, warm and flickering in the darkening evenings of the fast approaching winter. It didn’t do much to warm Harry’s _stupid_ internal cold, but it felt nice enough against his skin and coat.

With another shake of his fur Harry lifted up from where Wylie’s push had landed him earlier. His muscles protested, still fatigued from the climb, but Harry paid it no mind, used to feeling achey all the time.

Instead of fretting he took a few short, determined steps, and planted himself firmly against Otto’s side.

“Desperate really isn’t a good look, Styles,” the beta commented dryly, eye roll visible in the tone of his voice. Harry curled his upper lip to flash his teeth in a silent grimace as a response, only to get elbowed between the ribs for it.

Otto wasn’t pushing him away though and he even let Harry curl up into a ball against his jean clad thigh. Instead Harry got flicked on the back of his triangular ear, followed by a grumbling; “If you start your fussing-shit, I’m knocking you down the hill again.”

Harry ignored the words to focus on the small victory in the form of a warm body against his curving torso and neck. His snout was able to push almost fully under Otto’s knee and the way his paws were pressing under and against his own belly was making him feel small and snug. The beta’s distracted fingers, petting the thick fur of his scruff, felt almost overwhelmingly good.

The fire was growing taller and stronger as Wiley kept feeding more wood into it. The flames glowed warmly and the heat tingled where Harry’s coat was thinner, his skin quickly starting to feel flushed under his thickening winter fur.

Yet the fire couldn’t even slightly compare to the way the body warmth of the beta seeped into his skin and muscles, into his very core.

Harry sighed, deep and heavy enough that his whole rib cage expanded with it, and he closed his eyes. One of his ears was pressed almost fully against Otto’s thigh but the other one kept twitching and cataloguing the sounds around them.

Harry was distantly aware of the other pack members joining them, recognising them all by scent. He felt the sandy ground gently shifting beneath him with their movements, the air carrying small nitbits of their moods and their whereabouts of the day. His nose was dully picking up the muskier scent of the pack mates on four legs, some of them silently disappearing into the forest, their scents thinning out into the gaps of the treeline.

All of that was slowly lingering in the background of his focus while all of his nerve-endings were zeroed on the warm body next to his. It was like a soothing, firm rub against an itch Harry hadn’t been able to scratch on his own.

It was a ghost of the gentle, heated palms against his temples, holding his headaches at bay. It was a caring muzzle, grooming the backs of his ears, exactly where the tension pulled and tugged every day no matter how much Harry stretched and massaged the muscles himself. It was a safe embrace that was starting to melt the jagged edges of the block of ice, tightly lodged in place under Harry’s sternum.

It was the first snow of the year covering Harry’s fur when he jerked awake in the pitch black of the night, the fire long dead, and the big rock his only company.

*            

“I’m _not_ stupid,” Harry grumbled huffily under his breath as he slammed the door of his den shut.

He could still feel the teasing, provoking tones against his over-sensitive skin, ruffling his feathers. The worst was that he hadn’t even had any other choice than to just laugh along. Otherwise he’d have been dubbed as the bitchy, delicate flower. Which he was, proudly, but Harry liked to be that on his own terms.     

“I’m not stupid,” Harry repeated quietly, tone more unsure and his brow furrowing, “and my face isn’t stupid either.”    

Harry wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince of these facts, but he felt like he had to say it out loud. No one else was going to stand up for him, that was fo sure. Not over something so silly and childish as this. It didn’t help that he kept self-inflicting himself into these situations that were sure to make him feel frustrated. It wasn’t like he could get defencive over things that were said jokingly, or over situations he had willingly walked into himself.

It didn’t seem that wise to draw more attention to what he was doing. It could already be seen slightly— _questionable_ for an unmated omega to be purring and snuggling it up with anyone who would look at them twice. Still, it was Harry’s decision to do so, even though his biology was kind of forcing him into it, too.

Yeah, the whole thing was a bit messy. Unfortunate.   

So, he didn’t really get the chance to stand up for himself when he actually wanted to. It didn’t feel like he had enough footing to do so. But... As long as he did it at some point. Right?

“Right.” Harry nodded decidedly, and squinted at his own reflection squinting back from the entryway mirror. He was more than happy to stand up for himself in the privacy of his den.

Also. His face wasn’t stupid.

Yes, Harry was well aware that ‘ _your face is stupid, ha ha_ ’ was the most childish insult you could hear from a grown-ass adult. It hadn’t even been real teasing; basic banter, more like. Honestly. And Harry had been just as snarky, right back.

He knew he was just being touchy about it. Unfortunately that still didn’t mean it felt nice.

Harry always tried to remain unbothered and usually managed to stay that way too, but... Every now and then though, when he was feeling unusually sore and achey, or just plain sad, even the teasingly delivered words did their very best to get to him.

Harry rather liked his face, actually. He had pleasant enough eyes and when he smiled he got deep dimples on both cheeks. Niall had enjoyed poking at them, back when the blond omega had still lived with Harry’s pack. Nothing wrong with his face, nothing to be ashamed about. A lot of the time he knew that the way he looked was rather pleasing and he really wasn’t opposed to using that to his advance, but… He didn’t really get any chances to do that.

There were times though, quite often actually, that made it seem like no one else saw him that way? Or they just saw him as a pretty face and that was it for them. Maybe they did think he was a nice looking lad but for some reason were fine with him feeling like he didn’t fit in, or that he was unpleasant, or boring. People also clearly loved to assume things about him just because of their first impression. Which, obviously, sucked.

As it was, Harry was now stuck with an odd mentality of enjoying his own company and feeling confident with the way he was, only to feel unsure and belittled when in the company of others.

But… What if he _was_ self-centred and egoistic, and the others just saw him like he really was?

Harry groaned and wished for the umpteenth time that Niall was still there so he could whine and roll all over him pathetically. Forced cuddles, that was Harry’s treasured weapon against losing his mind.

Wolves just needed to be part of a pack to thrive. Even more than that they needed to feel accepted. “ _For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack,”_ and all that _Jungle Book_ wisdom. Obviously, Harry wasn’t doing that great in that department.

There was the familiar thrum of a strengthening headache pressing against the inside of his skull.

It was constant nowadays, unpleasant and tiring, and it was making Harry feel unfocused and loopy. He had known that things would get hard for him when Niall left, but in no way had he realised how quickly he would be feeling the effects of it. How quickly and _strongly_. It didn’t help that the packmates that were his age still seemed to be wary of him. Or, well, happy to just keep him at arm's-length?

Harry didn’t know why Niall leaving would’ve suddenly changed that anyway.

Being flirty, or whatever, was something that came naturally to Harry. Although he personally viewed it more as just— having fun… Having a laugh, you know? Harry wasn’t one for playing rough or mock-fighting; he enjoyed closeness and clever conversations. Sure, he was playful at times but not in the same way the others seemed to enjoy. He was a bit of a pushover, still, but not in a way that he would just go down without snapping his teeth.

A bit too snarky when he got in the mood yet a bit too eager to please at the same time— and apparently that was weird. Weirdly annoying.

Annoying… Yeah. What really was annoying was the ache all over his body, the shakiness in his muscles, and the dryness of his mouth. The other week he had felt bad enough to join in on a play-wrestle just to get some skin-on-skin contact. Usually he avoided those the best he could, not a fan of getting bruised up for giggles.  

As expected that play had turned into _“lets see who can pull out the largest tuft of fur from the others_ ” in about two minutes. Harry’s usually so neat coat was still looking patchy and—and _frumpy_.

Biology was so unnecessary sometimes. Like, Harry couldn’t help it? He would’ve loved to have people close to him so he could get his needed dose of affection, or what the fucking ever. But as it was, he couldn’t just walk up to others and expect them to groom him. And even if he could, that wouldn’t have helped him in long term. It wasn’t enough. He needed something real.   

Harry was constantly freezing. Not because of the weather, not because of the season shifting from a very late fall to the coolness of the winter, no. It was a constant underlying chill that kept pushing up and out from his very core. His fingers were always cold, tinted with blue most of the time, while his toes kept going numb no matter how many layers of socks he pulled on. By now he was used to curling up against the radiators of his den and he only moved when it started to burn his skin. Yet, from the inside he still felt the chill.

It was frustrating, more than anything. It was as if his circulation had stopped working properly, leaving him shaky with a headache and the coldness. It was as if his body had deemed it more necessary to pay extra attention to his heart—sacrificing his _less significant_ body parts for it—because he wasn’t taking ‘proper care’ of himself. Or something. Being an omega was such a pain. What kind of body thinks it’s a good idea not to be autonomous?  

As if it wasn’t bad enough to directly deal with the hinders that came with his biology, Harry also hated the needy omega stereotype. Truly loathed it. Not because it wasn’t true; a lot of the time omegas tended to be needier than alphas or betas. Harry sure as hell was, no lies there. But he hated it because there was nothing he could really do about it. Why was that trait the butt of the jokes when it was just a basic part of the omega biology? Who had figured it was a great idea to make them feel bad for something they had no control over?                                         

Luckily Harry didn’t have it _too_ bad. He knew the lads were just teasing him when calling him needy and desperate, but… Yeah, not cool.

The thing was… Wolves were social creatures. Right? That wasn’t rocket science. They had their little packs and hierarchies, and their lives were structured around their family dynamics and the deep understanding of each other and the core nature of _the wolf_. Every wolf in a pack had a role and without a pack a wolf was lost. There was no purpose. There was no safety. There was no _kinship_.

Humans were social creatures as well. The difference between a wolf and a human? Well.

Humans were stupid as fuck. The second their brains got the chance to complicate things, they sure as hell would...

Harry wasn’t brave enough to leave completely, not alone. It just wasn’t something that was done, especially not by omegas. It was just against their nature. Alphas did separate from bigger packs every now and then, to explore, or to start a pack of their own. Betas weren’t quite as fussed about it; they stayed where they felt the most comfortable, and sometimes that was with a pack, sometimes not.

But yeah, for omegas, and for Harry, it went against all of their— _everything._ The pack was all he had. Hell, the pack was all _he was_.

There was no way he could just leave it all behind, no matter how miserable he was getting.

He could leave for a little while though. He could handle the four day trek to Niall’s pack, and hopefully they would let him stay for a bit. Even just for long enough to spend a moment with Niall, to feel that sense of _safe_ and _content_. Get that little dose of comfort to soothe the spreading ice inside of him.

Okay, _woah_ , he sounded like a complete addict.

Otto was right. They were _all_ right: Harry was desperate. He was so desperate that it didn’t even matter to him how it was making him look, not anymore. He cared _fuckall_ about all of that.

It wasn’t healthy, _Harry_ wasn’t healthy. That was the real concern here, not the opinions and assumptions of some irrelevant, immature douches.

Something had to change.

And if it turned out that he wasn’t welcome at Niall’s and his mate’s pack, then… At least he had tried.

*    

Harry had to admit that he felt a bit reckless—and a lot attention seeking—as he finally slinked over the furthest border of the pack land. Not that he was letting that hinder him; there was no way he would be turning back now that he had finally found the courage to go. And also, the pain had gotten pretty bad during the past couple of days, so… Who knew if he would even make it if he waited any longer.  

The rose-pink hue of the dawn was melting the little frost that had accumulated overnight onto the forest floor. The barks of the trees were glowing warmly as the light grazed upon them, and Harry was able to navigate amongst the undergrowth with more ease as the awakening day brought more clarity for his eyes.

It felt strange to cross over the invisible borders, the familiar scents growing vaguer and thinner with every tense step he took.

The fur on his back was spiking up just from the unsettling feeling of _displacement_. Harry felt horribly unstable, his muscles were tense and the wolf, on guard and confused, was skittish and clearly unsure of what was going on.

Yeah, leaving with the cover of the night had been childish and attention seeking, definitely. It had felt like a great idea at the time; let them regret overlooking him, maybe worry a bit about what had happened to him. Just that little chance of them thinking that Harry was actually _gone_ and them finally realising…

Harry had felt _empowered_ by that, as stupid as it sounded. He still kind of did, and refused to let himself feel bad about it. They deserved to know and come to realise how they had been treating Harry like shit. He still had some of his pride and self respect left, after all.

But still, now… Some of his self-doubt was creeping in, no matter how he tried to push it back.

He was on a strange land with no cover, no food, and no safety of the pack. He was heading towards _another_ pack’s territory, where he wasn’t sure he would actually be welcomed to, _and_ he wasn’t... really sure of... where he was supposed to be... heading?    

Great.

Harry paused, squinting against the rising sun and scenting the air. Then the mossy forest floor underneath his paws. Then the roots of the trees.

It didn’t really smell like anything.

Harry knew that as an omega his tracking abilities weren’t as strong as what alphas and betas were gifted with, but his nose wasn’t completely useless. He was still a wolf, and the sense of smell was crucial for survival. Just because he wasn’t as _suited_ for the tasks that stereotypically fell upon alphas and betas, that didn’t mean he would just accept defeat.

Niall had told him that the territory was further up towards the mountains, at the bottom of the second highest peak. A peak, which Harry could clearly see glimmering in the morning sun; the bright white snow of the mountaintop glowing like a spotlight.

Harry shook out his fur with a fresh determination building onto the sore set of his shoulders. He could do this. _He could do this_.

Who needed a tracking nose when you could just use your _eyes_? And maybe a properly well-read brain.

Harry huffed snootily.

Idiots.

*

Harry was lost.

Five days ago he had _kind of_ considered that he might’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, and now… Well.

Harry could still see the mountains, the height of them impossible to miss even when looking up and through the thick, snow covered branches of the trees. There had been a steady fall of more snow over the past few days and the dark mountainsides had been covered by it in just one night.

Still, that didn’t explain why the mountains weren’t getting any closer? It seemed like Harry was somehow curving around them; kind of heading towards the destination he had in mind but still ending up— _not there_?

With a frustrated huff Harry allowed himself to slow down to a stop.

He had snow clinging to his topcoat, icicles freezing onto the fur near his mouth and chest, and the fresh layer of white on the ground was covering all of his tracks from the days before.

Harry sniffed the cold air nervously, not really able to pick up anything substantial. The snow was dulling everything down; the scents, the sounds, the landmarks. Harry didn’t know where he was, where he had came from, and where he should head next.

The only thing he knew was that he couldn’t allow himself to panic.      

He thought about howling out an alarm, or even a location call, but there was never no way of telling who would answer and how they would react to a stranger lingering around.

Was he on someone’s territory? Harry couldn’t tell, not with the way the fresh snow was messing with his nose. He wasn’t too great at picking out and separating scents to begin with, not unless the scents were something or someone he already recognised.   

This was bad. So, very bad.

Harry whined into the quiet, strange forest, the thin exhale unfurling out as a foggy cloud in the cold air. His own breathing was the only thing making sound in the unfamiliar mess of freezing nature. The rhythm of his increasingly quickening breaths was urging his heart to speed up to match it, or maybe it was the other way around?

The snow under his paws was fresh, it had been soft and fluffy whenever he’d broken the even surface with his steps. Now, frozen in place as the creeping fear pierced his chest, the snow felt almost cruel under his pads. Frozen in place as the world around him froze as it welcomed the winter. Frozen in place as the ice within him kept spreading.   

He had to go.

He should’ve just waited for Niall to come visit.

He had to get away, somewhere, somehow.

Away from what?

Go where?

Harry stumbled, his legs stiff with the paralysing weight of the fear that was taking over him. There was also a sharp spike of irritation circling in his mind, laced in deep frustration over his incapability to keep his emotions in check.

His mind was racing, one side telling the other to shut the fuck up, while the other screeched hysterically. Unfortunately that screeching side was also the one that kept egging his wolf on.

On some level Harry couldn’t help but admit that he shouldn’t be here, he really shouldn’t. His health wasn’t good enough to endure a trip like this, nor was his mental state… This wasn’t something he could do by himself, he wasn’t one for braveness like that. Snarky, quick witted, and smart, sure, but at the same time he was the type to crave security, warmth, quiet…

Not this kind of quiet though; not the judging, dull hum of the forest that seemed to be leaning in and over him.   

Harry really should’ve known better. The others were always telling him; he was needy and high maintenance. Annoying. Stupid. Enough so that he had actually followed his idiotic idea of running off to the out-lands, just for the small chance of getting some of his neediness stifled by someone who tolerated him. And he had fucked up. Even more than usual.

Would they even want him back? They had finally gotten rid of him, after all.

The thought of not having a place to go back to rushed another wave of sheer, uncontrollable terror through his tense body. Even though Harry didn’t know in which direction _anything_ was, he desperately needed one of those directions to welcome him.

A gust of wind had snow powdering down from the higher branches of the trees, the air glittering as it settled. Harry’s jaws were wet with spit from anxious panting, his nose cold as he kept licking over it repeatedly.

Harry tried his hardest to stay rational; he was aware that his mind was whirling him towards something that wasn’t necessarily helpful in a situation like this.

He had to move. He had to make a decision.

A decision he didn’t feel like he was equipped to make… Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, wishing that someone could just tell him what to do. Where to go. And then hated himself for wishing that. But he really needed to unfreeze his body. Now. Needed to stop being so useless, and figure out how to start being whatever it was he needed _to be_ to feel like he belonged.  

The forest was quiet, dead under the weight of the merciless season.

He had to move. Just go.

Harry stumbled again, gangly forelegs catching on each other while his whole body tilted, forcing him to scramble to stabilize his balance.

The snow was icy under his unsteady paws but the metallic jaws of the bear trap, crunching through the bone of his left hind leg, was burning hot like the most freezing cold flame he had never wanted to encounter.        

*

Harry was panting, spit drooling down the side of his mouth and melting into the dirtied snow beneath him. His breath came out in harsh whimpers.

Instinct wanted him to trash and pull and bite and fight until he was free to tear away and run… Luckily he still had enough sense not to give into that.

He wasn’t an animal, not like the one-skinned canine brothers his kind was distantly tied to. Common one-skin wolf would bite their way out of the trap with no understanding of how that would be just as deadly, if not more, than waiting for… something. Anything. A miracle, perhaps. Harry whined.

It had been hours. Maybe even more than that.

What if it had been days?

It was almost dark now, the temperature dropping. There was so much blood around him, under him, on his fur. It was turning into a gruesome slush in the cold, red frozen spikes stiffening all over his topcoat.

He was going to die.

He was going to die and it was all his own damn fault.

Harry should’ve just been happy with what he had got, he _had_ more than enough. Yes, his body had been shutting down from the lack of resources to soothe his natural instincts and needs. Yes, the need to fit in and find his place amongst his packmates had caused him to behave desperately, anxiety growing when every day had showed him there was no good, right, place for him. But surely there would’ve been other options. Better options. He should’ve just forced away his pride and gone to the pack elders...

A frustrated, pained gasp cut through the silence of the darkening evening.

He tried to shift again, only to be met with the same indescribable block between his forms. The metallic teeth pinning him in place was somehow also pinning him into his wolf; his bones and flesh unable to rearrange around the trap.     

It hurt, like _hell_ , but Harry tried again.

And again.

_And again._

With each attempt, desperately reaching towards that blurry _in-between_ of the canine and the human, the strength behind his hurt, uncontrollable wails started to fade.

_There was another._

A wolf.

On two legs.

Blue eyes.

A man.

The alpha was looking down at him silently, face unreadable and stoic, his features blurred out on Harry’s fading vision.

He didn’t seem to be paying any mind to Harry’s pained gasping, or how the omega was clearly trying to stay awake... Stay awake while trying to fight the instinct to escape the strange alpha.

It was a struggle to push back that core-instinct, even as he was still lucid enough to understand that tearing away from the trap wasn’t an option. It was a struggle against his wolf, and he didn’t even have the energy to turn his head to follow the man walk around him. He didn’t even have the energy to fight the heaviness dragging his eyes closed.

The snow scrunched under the man’s steps, and Harry couldn’t tell if it was the darkness of the forest or the blood loss that was preventing him from seeing the stranger’s movements.

Then, suddenly, there was a calming, alluring scent in the air; a bared wrist offered up for Harry’s gasping, wheezing breaths to draw in. It was deliberate, the scent numbing and sweetening in a way that was almost sour along the walls of Harry’s struggling throat.

As the scent— _safe, calm, peace, not alone, together_ —lured Harry’s muscles into relaxation, the stranger made his move.    

Suddenly there was a tight fist wrapped around Harry’s muzzle and the man’s weight was pinning his whole head down against the _pinkredcoldice_ ground.

Before Harry had the chance to react, the alpha wrenched the teeth of the bear trap open with his other hand.

Whatever Harry had planned on doing next escaped his mind as the all consuming nothingness washed over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to try some different character-traits than what I usually gravitate towards and also test out a more conversational(?) narrator’s voice. Like, mixing the character’s thoughts more into the narration than I usually do, I guess. Tell me what you think!  
> Hopefully it wasn’t too messy or full of incoherent typos. I’m still (forever) practising this whole writing thing. :) 
> 
> There will be two or three chapters. I haven’t decided yet which it will be as it depends on the flow of the storyline and if/where breaks will feel natural. This is a WIP(!!) but I mostly just need to flesh out parts that need fleshing out, the main frame of the story is done. I won’t make any promises about updating schedule, but keep an eye out for the next chapters.
> 
> Thank you for reading. xx 
> 
> -
> 
> shyshyserious.tumblr.com  
> sshyserious@gmail.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. There's no way I can keep this under three chapters. I just don't know how to write shortly... :')  
> (I'm trying to learn though! I'm working on this cute prompt I received whenever I need a break from this one, and I think I'm almost done, and it's not overwhelmingly long yay!)

When Harry came to, it was with an entirely too dramatic jolt.

Before his eyes were even able to focus on things like, you know, _seeing,_ his body was already scrambling to be upright. His head felt like it weighed a ton, making it difficult for him to find his balance.

Well, not just difficult.

The crash following Harry’s graceless tumble into and over something was harsh and chaotic. Multiple somethings, by the sound of it, loudly scattered and clanged all over everywhere while Harry was trying to resist the gravity.

With a stuttering brain he tried to figure out where his legs were, only to find that one of them was—not there?

Blinking rapidly and shaking his heavy, cottony head Harry collided with what he assumed could’ve been a wall. The sound of something shattering made him question if it was, in fact, a wall, but unfortunately a missing limb was a slightly more pressing issue than the correct title of the surface that was now supporting him.

Harry’s vision was swimming. Everything he tried to focus on appeared with darkness around the edges and haziness clouding the centers. He was distantly aware that his breathing was coming out too heavy, ribs hurting from the harsh way they had to give way for his panting gasps. His thoughts were coming in jumbled and too disorganised to be helpful.

It probably was a small miracle that he somehow managed to stabilise himself for long enough to turn his useless head towards his legs. That miracle was short lived, of course. The shifting of his weight caused the rest of Harry’s body follow after his heavy, half-functioning head. Now, in a pile of limbs on the floor, Harry was able to come to a conclusion that standing up probably wasn’t something he should be attempting any time soon.

With a shuttering exhale Harry tried to blink the blurriness from his eyes. It didn’t help much, nor did the instinctual head shake which sent his malfunctioning ears flopping around.

Focusing on his breathing Harry tried to ground himself onto the feeling of the hard, stable surface he was laying on. His head might’ve been swimming but the texture of wooden floorboards was stabilising enough to start calming his hammering heartbeat.

The floor— _indoor floor_ —was cool under the pads of his paws and the feeling was helping him to focus, helping him to collect himself for long enough to stop freaking out.

After that he was slowly able to remember how to count again. After that he miraculously rediscovered his fourth leg.

He didn’t get the chance to feel relieved.

“ _What?”_

The sudden voice was sharp, clearly displeased, and Harry spooked so badly that he didn’t even realise he was trying to scramble upright all over again.

It didn’t work out any better than the first attempt.

His brain rushed into a pathetic, panicked overdrive, and the fact that all of his senses were dulled and barely working, was just adding to that. He couldn’t see properly, his vision just a foggy disarray of a small room that seemed to be tilting from one side to the other. There was a flicker of burning red from a fire in the corner of his eye and squirming legs of a set of chairs stood in front of him like the bars of a cage. His ears were filled with the rhythm of his overworking heart yet they kept twisting, trying to catalogue anything and everything happening.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, _sit down_.”

Harry sat down.

His rump plopped to the floor the second the words were barked out in the air. _Uh?_

 _Huh._ Also, kind of uncomfortable?

His hind leg was sticking out awkwardly, unable to bend and horribly heavy because of a stiff, makeshift cast that— apparently was now wrapped around it?

Harry stared dumbly down at his leg, distant image of a bear trap flashing in his eyes.

Right.

He was out of the trap. Clearly. It was also warm, and the pain—which probably should’ve been there after having his leg snapped in half?— was just a dull reminder in the back of his mind.

Maybe Harry had hallucinated the whole thing? Oh! _Was he dead?_

That would be annoying. 

“I left for _two minutes_ ,” the Voice sighed, tone rough and irritated. “How— The whole place is a mess.”

Harry smacked his head against something, his body still too unsteady to handle movements such as jerking towards sudden sounds. He managed to stay upright this time though, and was also able to blink away enough of the blurriness from his vision to see…

The love of his life? Apparently.

_Holy shit._

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, like, Harry wasn’t quite thinking clearly? After all, he was delirious from blood loss. Just for starters. He was also suffering from broken bones and shredded muscle, starvation—both food _and_ touch—probable hypothermia, slight concussion from smacking his head just now, and horrible, terrible, _awful_ loneliness. Just to begin with. So.

_But._

This guy had already sorted out his broken leg—it had to be him, there were no other scents lingering about—so _maybe_ he would have a little _something-something_ for Harry’s loneliness too.

Harry blinked up at the man, now even more determined to stop his eyesight from being all wonky and swimming uncomfortably in and out of focus. There _was_ a slight possibility that he was high on some sort of medication, or being affected by an adrenalin spike, but that wasn’t enough to squash Harry’s sudden interest.

Harry sniffed the air, mostly getting a gross mix of the stench his own dried blood and— _ew_ , moving on from that, immediately. But. Behind all of that was the heavy, _gorgeous_ earthy musk of this strange wolf.    

Maybe he was hallucinating after all. _Or_ dead. Harry wasn’t sure if he minded—which probably should’ve been a clear indicator how high of his mind he actually was—and focused on admiring this fine specimen. His tail wagged almost drunkenly as he did so, tongue lolling out of his mouth. It was met with an unimpressed, arching eyebrow. Such a nice curve, that. If only he would turn around and show the rest of the curves he was hiding.

The man— _an alpha_ , Harry’s brain repeated what his nose had already documented—sighed and carefully stepped closer to where Harry was ogling him. Or trying to ogle him; Harry’s eyes still had some trouble doing anything productive. But, _still_ , from the little he could get, he already was fascinated by this wolf.

There was a huffing, somber chuckle that caused Harry’s tail speed up it’s wagging; “You’re so out of it, aren’t you?”

Afterwards Harry would probably figure that he was being laughed _at,_ not with. However, for the time being Harry was just set on doing his best to be charming.

To execute said charmingness Harry tilted his head and whined softly, very subtly leaning forward to scent the air; to get a better whiff of the alpha.

“Very subtle...” the man sighed, resigned. He was finally stepping closer though, so Harry wasn’t too worried about getting caught in the act of trying to drown himself in that scent. Also, the alpha was now close enough that Harry was able to properly control his sight and see—

_Those were some blue eyes._

Harry stared.

“I don’t think the meds are supposed to get you _this_ loopy,” the stranger muttered, clearly to himself more than anything. Harry didn’t blame him. Firstly, he was perfect, which meant he was free to do whatever he wished. Secondly... Harry had no idea what his brain was doing. 

The man glanced down to Harry’s wrapped leg calculatingly and then slowly back up to meet his dazed eyes. “Do you think you can handle sitting still while I take a look at that?”

 _Do you think you can handle_ me? Harry’s brain sassed.

Loopy was a good word. Great word. This alpha was so smart. Such a nice face. Lovely vocabulary. Nothing hurt and everything was great. Woah, Harry was _living_. Finally.

The man was grimacing at something he was seeing in Harry’s eyes, which Harry counted as a win because the stranger looked very pretty even when pulling a face. The way his tail was thumbing against something was loud and rhythmic. It was a nice sound, although… The sound was beginning to echo a bit strangely in Harry’s ears?

“Alright,” the alpha sighed and, to Harry’s absolute delight, was suddenly _right there_. “Come on, then. If you’re going to pass out on me, you’re doing it laying down.”

But… Harry wasn’t going to pass out? What was this gorgeous, ethereal being even talking about?

Actually, yeah. What _was_ he talking about? Harry couldn’t quite catch all the words.

“Ooph, careful. Shit—”

Harry was always careful but he would definitely be whatever this man wanted him to be. Like? Did you see this guy?

Harry would find a way to turn into a fucking pumpkin if necessary.

_“I did not sign up for this...”_

 

*

When Harry came to the second time it was with a lot more clarity. The room wasn’t spinning, his ears were working, and his nose was twitching eagerly as he breathed in all the information he could get.

There was a dull evening light coming through a small window and warm flames of a fire brightened the room the rest of the way.

Except, no. It wasn’t a room.

It was a cottage. Or a tiny hut, more like. There were only two doors, both closed, along the sides of the half wooden half stone-covered walls. A slim bed was next to a low bookshelf and a small dining table stood snuggly by the long side of the bed. The space was small, _cozy_ , and the air smelled of the warmth from the burning wood, the wintery forest, and the—       

Harry was being watched.

“Hey,” the now more familiar looking stranger greeted, sitting criss-crossed next to Harry. The small fireplace was to their right, wafting warmth over them. “Feeling better?”

Harry blinked at the question.

It was very stuttering the way he remembered, again, that he couldn’t move his leg. Which… _Fuck._

A sharp clawing of pain ran up his leg to his whole lower body, throbbing and stinging and _agonising_.

“I take that as a no,” the alpha was saying, barely understandable over the loud whimper that tore out from Harry’s throat. He looked up towards the man pleadingly, not even knowing what he was asking for. Just. _Something._ “I don’t think it’s safe to give you any more until later.”

Any more of what, Harry wasn't sure. He was too busy trying to plead with his eyes for the man to knock him out. Have some mercy. Just. _Ow._

“I’m Louis,” the alpha, _Louis_ , said, quite obviously trying to distract Harry from the pain. It was working, a bit. Or at least the string of profanities echoing in Harry’s mind was now replaced with a _Louis Louis Louis..._ “And, for you, I guess we’ll have to come up with a nickname.”

Harry whined, half in question and half by accident; he wasn’t able to hold back the pained sound that was trying to suffocate him.

“ _Because._ You won’t be shifting until your leg has healed at least a little bit.”

Oh. Well.

Unfortunately that made sense.

As much as Harry wanted to be able to talk—mainly to demand some painkillers, or a plain old hit to the head—he wasn’t stupid enough to force a shift on a healing form. That would just make everything ten times worse and ruin all progress that might’ve happened so far. Which, clearly wasn’t all that much, based on the way it was hurting _like fucking hell_.

With a frustrated, heavy exhale Harry tilted his head to examine his hind legs. There, on the soft pile of quilts, was his sad excuse of a stub. Okay, _fine,_ it wasn’t an actual _stub._ He could see his pads and toes peek out from underneath the tightly wrapped dressing. Or bandage? It wasn’t a proper cast, but clearly work of someone who had known what they were doing. It was tight and heavy enough that Harry could tell something inside the wrap was supporting his broken bones.

With a shudder Harry turned his head away, not wanting to add to the pain he was experiencing by thinking about the details of it. Instead he rested his head over his forelegs and sadly looked up at _Louis._

Oddly enough his tail wanted to start swaying from the sight, which was a bit counterproductive when he was trying to stay still to avoid any unnecessary pain. As if all of it wasn’t already unnecessary…

Harry allowed the alpha’s soft, one-sided musings to distract himself. His face, as itself, was distracting too. Which, by the way; Harry refused to feel embarrassed by the thoughts that had invaded his brain when he had been high on the good stuff.    

“Bruin.”

Harry blinked, refocusing on the discussion happening next to him. The alpha’s blue eyes were directed at him, oddly tired with darkness staining the skin underneath them.

“You know,” Louis said, tilting his head to the side, “it’s only appropriate after finding you in the bear trap.”

Harry huffed, hoping the pouty look translated to his wolf form.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Louis pouted back at him exaggeratedly. Somehow he still managed to look irritated. Or maybe exhausted. Both? “No vocal chords, no opinion.”

Harry lifted his top lip to bare his teeth in rebellion against the statement. The alpha scoffed, but Harry just knew he was intimidated.

Harry was very fierce.

A couple of hours later Harry was feeling anything but fierce.

He couldn’t stop any shaky whimpers from pouring out from between his clenched teeth with every strained exhale, and the pain was just _agony_. Pure agony.

The hut had gone dark, the fire remaining as the only lightsource. Louis was reading something, the cover of the book free of images and text, and Harry just kept wishing for hm to read out loud so he could focus on anything else but the _pain_.

 _The pain._ The broken bones and the teared muscle. His overworked joints, pads ran raw in the frozen forest. His skin was sore all over, the weight of his fur pulling on it uncomfortably. Everything just hurt. And Harry hadn’t even allowed himself to think about this— _situation,_ yet.

Harry sluggishly licked over his snout before returning to the previous rhythm of panting, wheezing breaths.    

Louis turned a page.

Another drop of spit fell from the tip of Harry’s tongue, soaking into the small dark spot that had spread on the quilt he was laying on. Harry whined.  

The alpha looked so comfortable; skin glowing in the heat of the fire, his fingers elegant where they were wrapped around the book covers.

Harry wanted to...

He wanted for the pain to stop.

Harry was staring, he knew he was, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the idiotic idea forming in the back of his mind either, not even when the usually stronger rational side of him perked in scandalised disdain.

Yeah. Harry was a moron. He didn’t know who this wolf was, what he was like, or where he was from. There was literally no way of knowing if he was trustworthy, or safe, in any way. Why was he alone out here? There were no other scents around, not even older dulled ones, really. Why had he been so deep in the wilderness to be able to come across Harry in the first place?

It was all a bit too much, and too many questions, for Harry’s struggling body and brain to process. He literally had no way of telling if he would’ve been better off left dying in the trap… From all he knew, the man could’ve been withholding the painkillers from Harry for some sick amusement, or something. No matter the risk of overdosing, Harry really just needed something to— _to help_.

But, stranger or not, there was something in Louis’ eyes, in the set of his shoulders… That...

Harry crawled forward.

The fingers holding the book flexed. Blue eyes snapped down to watch every sluggish movement Harry was making. He didn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

The way Louis stiffened was visible.

The bob of his throat as he swallowed was audible in the silence they were sharing, and Harry could easily tell how strangled the way he was breathing was getting. All of that was just a clear indicator of how much Harry’s closeness was getting to him.

So he stopped. His careful movements hadn’t jarred his leg too much but he was in pain from more than just that injury. His skin’s oversensitivity just seemed to be flaring up and Harry tilted his snout down to rest it on his forelegs, cautiously still keeping an eye on Louis.  

Harry tried not to feel the bang of— he didn’t even know what the feeling was, nothing positive, that was for sure. He had barely even managed to move close enough to be able to consider something like _touching_.

Harry whined, almost wistfully and _in so much pain_ , and that was when the alpha bared his teeth.

It was graceful and swift, the way Louis stood up.

He placed the book on the small dining table, uncaring of losing his page.

It was only a short moment before the alpha had pulled his thick winter jacket on and walked out the door of the hut.

*

“ _Bruin_ ,” a quiet voice was repeating, intrusively pushing into Harry’s sleeping consciousness. “ _Bruin?_ ”

Harry couldn’t stop a light whine pushing out through his nose, confused, and feeling it in his chest, echoing lonelier than ever.

“Come on, now.” It was _Louis,_ the owner of the voice. “‘s time to eat again, pup.”

It probably was. Except Harry really didn’t want to eat. The thought of it caused his stomach to go all tight and unpleasant; burning.

By the smell of it the meal was a similar mash of potatoes and carrots as it had been the days before. It was only a slight smear on the plate, Harry learned, after he managed to drag his eyes open. It was probably a good idea, as he had kind of gotten sick the first time Louis had offered him a full plate of mash, with a lovely side of painkillers.

That hadn’t been pretty... Louis’ scent had turned irked and frustrated, the mix of their upset filling up the whole hut like a heavy blanket. Harry couldn’t have been happier when the alpha had returned from getting another dose of meds, and he had wholeheartedly embraced it when they finally knocked him right out.

Now though, Harry wasn’t sure if the disgust he was feeling towards the offered food would win over the need to get rid of the pain on his leg. Because, right. The meds did fuckall for everything else that was messed up with his body.

The leg was doing fine… Their kind healed faster than a lot of other animals, which was a blessing, and the immediate tearing pain was dulling down. His everything else though? Not so great. And Harry was starting to suspect that being around a— _Ugh_. No matter how gross it sounded to even think about it, it was just facts. And biology. So… Being around _a suitable mate_ , especially one he was actually, genuinely attracted to, was kind of causing his body to—freak the hell out?         

As in, it was pretty much continuously asking _‘Hey, what’s up over here, pal? We should be having all of that all over all of this, but hey, hey what’s going on?’_ His body was preparing to receive what it needed just because of the close proximity of _Louis_ , and when that wasn’t really happening… Well, it was just a tedious loop of Crash and Build Up, only to Crash again.

The Build Up came with a heavy tension punching up his muscles, his fur spiking up in anticipation, skin tight and sensitive. His eyes and mouth felt dry, senses hyper aware of everything. It kept building and building and building, until the lack of resolution and release just pushed him over, causing his body to Crash down.

At least most of the time that meant he would black out. Small blessings, right?

The clang of the plate being set down by his head snapped Harry’s attention back to his surroundings.     

Louis was scowling down at him, brows furrowed and the line of his mouth thoughtful. Harry met his gaze and stared back.

“Why aren’t you healing?” Louis asked— _accused_ —with such suspicion and distrust that it was almost comical. By the looks of it he was actually considering that Harry was somehow _not getting better on purpose_.

Harry huffed, exhausted, but slightly amused by the disgruntled expression the alpha was sporting. He was cute. Like. He was rude. And grumpy and a bit snappy, yeah. But mostly just cute. 

Louis glared some more, nudging the plate of mash closer to Harry. Harry pointedly ignored both gestures.

“I will—and don’t even for a second think I won’t—scoop this stuff down your throat, wanted it or not,” the alpha threatened, picking the plate back up. He stuck his fingers into the food, and then waved his creation at Harry. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not taking the blame for letting some whiny runaway die on me, so.” Harry didn’t really have the energy to flash his teeth at the provoking words. “It’s up to you.”

Harry watched as Louis slightly lifted both the plate and his other hand in a _‘Well, which one is it?_ ’ way, accompanied by expectantly raised eyebrows.

Harry watched some more.

He catalogued the way the muscles on Louis’ forearm were tensing under the weight of the plate. He noticed the pinched frustration residing in the alpha’s eyes. He followed the shift of his throat as he swallowed, and the almost unnoticeable flare of his nostrils as he scented and gauged whatever it was Harry’s scent was telling him. He slowly shifted his eyes and let them settle on the hand and fingers offering the food.  

 _Hm._     

With a tired canine grin Harry let his tongue loll out of his mouth, jaws dropping open in an invitation.

The amount of frustration clouding over Louis’ face would’ve been amusing if the situation had been any different. Like. Sure, Harry enjoyed every second of getting to lick stuff off of the alpha’s fingers. He was more than happy to swallow the little pills that were offered after. Overjoyed was most likely a very accurate term for the way he had felt when he had tongued off any residue from Louis’ palm and from between his fingers. But. _But._

It clearly wasn’t… It was obvious that Louis wasn’t _c_ _ompletely_ comfortable with it.

He had agreed to it, yes. Threatened Harry with it, sure. But that didn’t mean he wanted to do it. And _that_ meant Harry didn’t want to do it either. Except he had to. To survive. You know, just that teeny-tiny detail…

So. Basically the lovely situation they had found themselves in was just— not ideal.

Harry was tired. Louis was tired. They were both frustrated. Unable to communicate properly. Harry was in pain and suffering. Louis was a pain—but a cute pain—and sulking. And… Well, Harry was starting to suspect that neither of them really had no idea what was going on.     

The main hindrance probably was the communication… Harry, for obvious reasons, couldn’t really just _talk_. There was only so much detail one could interpret with a canine body. It also didn’t help that he wasn’t really in the shape to interpret anything. Like. Yeah… Harry couldn’t even walk properly, and not just because of the leg.

If it had only been _Harry_ making the communicating difficult, that probably would’ve been manageable. That would’ve been a breeze, even. Of course Harry could nod and shake his head as an answer to a yes or no question, but guess what? That marvelous skill is completely useless if there’s no one actually asking those questions. Wow. Groundbreaking, right?

Louis… Louis was an odd one.

Harry was really having a hard time wrapping his head around the whole situation. It was obvious enough that Louis wasn’t comfortable with having Harry in his space though. He also clearly wasn’t alright with letting him suffer and die alone, which, _thanks_.

The alpha wasn’t hiding the fact that he was waiting for Harry to heal enough so he could be kicked out. At the same time though, he was doing his best to have Harry as comfortable and cared for as possible. He had fed Harry food with his _fingers_ , for fuck sake. But he was tense. So, so tense, and the longer they were spending time together in the small confines of the hut the quieter he got.

He kept watching though. Always. And Harry was pretty sure he should’ve been uncomfortable under such piercing scrutiny, but in reality it was what he was craving.

_Attention._

It wasn’t necessarily the kind of attention he needed but it was something. It was helping too, in some weird way. Like. Harry didn’t feel like he was going to float away just yet. It was grounding.

It was also complete and utter bullshit.

Harry should’ve known to expect something like this. Honestly. How unlucky can a person be to go from where he was to _here_ ? It was as if the universe was taunting him, tangling a possible answer right in front of his nose, just to then turn around and throw in a little side note of “ _Oh! Oopsie! You just didn’t suffer quite enough yet. Kissies!”_

Harry would be stuck in his wolf form for a while, still. Shifting would just rip open anything that had started to heal and probably unsettle the bones. Not to mention the fact that he might not even have the energy to shift, even if he tried. That meant that there would be no way of reaching out to Louis, verbally, for a while. Also. Louis was being a sulky little tit. _Also._ Harry couldn’t walk, or move, or _exist_ , without his help. And. He was stuck in Louis’ hut. With Louis, _who was a tit._

And Harry was _not_ going to force physical contact on a person who clearly was uncomfortable with it. Even if it meant he would have to suffer for the consequences.

Yeah. The whole situation, anything about it, was just not going great.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the absolutely overwhelmingly amazing feedback and support on the first chapter!!
> 
> I'm definitely going to keep working on and with the more conversational narrator, I'm quite enjoying it so far. It was also especially fun with this chapter because of Harry's train of thought was a tad bit wilder than it would be normally/will be in the upcoming chapters. I had to take advantage of that, heh.
> 
> Also, worry not. Louis won't forever feel this 'distant'; in the next chapter(s) we'll meet him 'properly', when Harry is less loopy and all that haha.
> 
> I hope you liked this one as much as the first one! I'm more nervous about this chapter though, as it's just starting to build up the story and setting the scene. Hopefully you'll stick with me to see where it's all going though (cuddles. that's it. that's where it's going.) xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy, guys.
> 
> Massive apologies for the super late update. I had planned on getting back to writing the moment my last uni deadline was sorted, but something came up in my personal life and it has been taking a lot of my attention. It's being taken care of though so no need to worry about anything. :) 
> 
> Anyways! Here's the new chapter! I really do hope that you like this but please tell me if something doesn't make sense. I haven't yet had the chance to properly check it over, I really just wanted to post this as it's been so long since the last update. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the love this story has gotten so far. You guys are the best! xx

In the end Harry blamed the delusions that came with the icy pain of loneliness and the lack of touch for the almost forceful burst of blind bravery. Or maybe it had been just pure stupidity; complete disregard of the consequences, not just for him but also for Louis.

Most likely it had been a little bit of both. Brave and stupid.

“What are you doing?” Louis grumbled, wary and frowning. His voice was tight, just like the line of his mouth.

He was kneeling by Harry’s side, nimble fingers careful as he secured the new and clean bandage around Harry’s healing leg. The position had brought the alpha to such close proximity that the scent of him had pulled Harry out of his drowsy state. He wasn’t even properly awake before he already found himself curling in, his head snuggling to rest on top of Louis’ thighs.

His body moved as if he hadn’t been struggling to avoid _this exact thing_ for the past however-long it had been. He curled up against the alpha as if there was some sort of muscle memory guiding him. Which there obviously couldn’t be. As, you know, he wouldn’t be in this stupid situation to begin with if he had actually managed to attain muscle memory from cuddling enough in the past.

Alright... To think of it, maybe it was _neither_ bravery or stupidity, that had caused him to finally snap and just faceplant on Louis. Maybe it was just his last brain cell acting out as the last desperate resort.

Either way, it was humiliating and distressing. Humiliating because it was an obvious telltail of how shit Harry had to be to _not_ have anyone who’d want to help him out with the whole thing. Distressing because now Harry was forcing Louis to deal with his shit when it was crystal clear that the alpha wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Like, literally. The man had ran out of the hut multiple times whenever Harry’s self-control had slipped and he had gotten whinier and needier than what was even slightly appropriate. Which was _also_ humiliating. And distressing. Just a good time in general, you know. A blast.                

“Bruin?” Louis’ voice echoed in Harry’s ears, and the undertone of worry laced into it caused something warm and hopefully to stir inside Harry’s chest. Which was probably really selfish of him. And shitty. If only his last delusional brain cell hadn’t been the only thing in charge and Harry could’ve tried to scold himself.

Well, okay. Maybe he _did_ secretly like that someone was fussing over him, but he would forever pretend that it wasn’t a thing and just keep it to himself. He didn’t even feel too bad about it, no one would know he was greedy. Why would he lie to himself and not allow himself to want things?

He was generally a good boy, but not _that good_. Also, Louis was dreamy. So.

Harry’s head lolled to the side and almost slipped from the little nest he had made for himself on Louis’ thighs. The movement was sudden and managed to nudge his mind just enough to halt the dangerously loopy and _dreamy_ train of thought.

Rushed yet careful palms moved to cup Harry’s cheeks, fingertips pressing down behind his ears. A gentle thumb rubbed under his eye, trying to coax some sign of life from the ragdoll state Harry had fallen into.  

Harry wished the way his eyes rolled back from the contact would’ve been just a joking exaggeration.

Unbeknownst to Louis, he was actually just leading Harry deeper and deeper into the utterly relaxed, unresponsive state. And the deeper Harry got the less likely he was to be able to let the man know that this was...

Something that was actually helping. Finally.

“Come on now, love,” Louis breathed out, his voice gone shaky and small. Harry could feel the words against the fur of his temple, the closeness of it almost too much to handle. “Come on, none of that now. Open your eyes. _Bruin_.”

The anxiety in Louis’ voice was obvious, even his scent was spiking with the fearful reaction to the sudden change in Harry’s state.

Not that Harry had been doing much better the past couple of days, no. His memory from that time was stubbornly hazy, full clarity a rare treat as the suffocating ice spread it’s freezing fingers further and deeper into his body and mind. Being an omega was such a hassle, honestly… Harry could’ve spent that time doing something way more productive.

Stuff like _not_ withering out of existence. Or _not_ making the only person that had even looked towards his direction feel like crap.   

Day after day, the more anxious Louis’ scent had gotten the more unresponsive and tired Harry had gotten too. Which… That obviously hadn’t helped the situation either. And, of course, with some weird unwell logic, his brain had also decided that Louis’ discomfort was because of something he, _Harry_ , had _done_. He had done or said or thought something that had made the alpha upset and angry, Harry just knew it.

At least he _knew_ it until the next small breath of clarity hit. Then he would remember again that he couldn’t have moved or said anything in his current state… Telepathy hadn’t became a thing either. Yet.

Unfortunate, that. Because no matter the amount of trouble Harry would get into if others were able to peek inside his brain, he would right about now like to have the ability to leave Louis a message. Just a tiny little note, you know. Just to let him know that Harry wasn’t really- about to kick it.

“Hey… Please,” Louis whispered, delicate words disturbed by an almost unnoticeable breaking of his voice. He was rubbing his palms up and down, all the way from Harry’s neck and down along his spine to the middle of his back.

It was lovely, the touch. Lovely enough to easily overpower the stressed energy from Louis. It was so lovely it hurt, Harry’s skin was tingling, tight and oversensitive. His fur wanted to prickle up in pleasure from the way Louis was massaging his hands into it.

Harry couldn’t really tell if that was _really_ happening though, as it was now hard to tell what was going on with his physical body. The answer was ‘not much’, if the way Louis was reacting was any indicator.

The alpha tipped Harry’s head to the side and one of his hands pressed tightly against Harry’s chest.

After a couple of silent moments Louis growled in tense frustration. The next thing Harry knew was that there were fingers pressing into the muscle under his hind leg.

Wild.

Maybe if he had been even slightly more conscious Harry would’ve pulled some sort of suggestive gesture. On the other hand, if he had been even slightly more conscious it wouldn’t have taken him so long to realise that Louis was feeling for his pulse.

Then, suddenly, the alpha’s touch was gone.

As in _completely_.

Harry’s head was resting on his own numb forelegs and his skin was freezing and his bones hurt and _he couldn’t breathe_.

The hurt sound that ripped out from somewhere deep in Harry’s chest was unfamiliar and strange. He had never in his life produced a sound like that before and he never wanted to again.

It _hurt_.

His ribs were aching, lungs burning. His throat was clenching around something that felt like shards of broken glass.

Where did Louis go? What happened?

Had he done something wrong again? No: _What_ had he done wrong this time.

A crooning sound tickled into Harry’s ears, soothing and calling back at him, replying to his frightened and unpleasantly wheezing gasps. _A warm_ larger body snuggled tightly against his curved back, a gentle shout pushing into the fur behind Harry’s ear.

And that. _Oh._

A wolf. Another wolf. But Louis, too. _Familiar_. Warm.

As if a switch had been shifted Harry’s mind was going hazy again. The momentary shock and fear of being left behind just to be suddenly engulfed into even tighter embrace, was cramming his instincts through a brutal blender.    

There was a noticeable tremble transferring from Louis’ body to Harry’s. It took Harry a moment to notice, with the way the movement blended in with the shakiness of his own muscles and breaths. But it was there, clear and obvious, and it became more and more noticeable as Louis did his best to wrap Harry up into a tight wolf-shaped hug.

Harry tried to focus. Tried to hold onto that detail because it seemed important and so out of character for Louis who had so far appeared so- _secure,_ and strong.

Harry managed to keep his thoughts trained to that just for long enough to try and comfort Louis. Which probably wasn’t even that appreciated. Still, Harry tried to groom the nearest part of the alpha he could reach with his floppily lolling, stupid, delusional head.

Harry wasn’t sure but it was possible that he had just licked the pads of his own paw before passing out...  

It was the thought that mattered, anyways.

*     

Harry wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed when he properly came back to his senses the next time.

The hut was dark but it kind of always was. He was surrounded with way more quilts than he had been before, and Harry was pretty sure the thickest one was actually from Louis’ bed.

That was also the thing that clued Harry in on the fact that he was feeling _way_ better. Like, way _way_ better.

Louis sacrificing his bedding for Harry’s comfort was lovely and chivalrous and all, but. _But._ There was _no way_ in hell Harry could’ve been able to resist scenting the crap out of that duvet, if the massive blackout cuddle-fest hadn’t happened. Which _had_ happened, even though, sadly, Harry hadn’t been conscious for the most of it.

Anyway. He wasn’t hurting. He didn’t feel lethargic. His brain was clear. His lungs felt like they could actually process the concept of oxygen again.

It was almost back to how it had been _before_. Before everything. Before Niall leaving.

Sure, Harry could still detect the underlying lingerings of the Pain and the _Lack_ and the Tension, but that was to be expected anyway. Just because he felt amazing for now didn’t mean he couldn’t fall right back to where he had been. And with Harry’s track record he probably would end up doing just that...

 _Anyhow_ , just because his head was clear now and everything felt _amazing_ and he had no reason to gulp deep breaths of Louis’ scent from his duvet, didn’t mean he would deprive himself of that luxury. Harry wasn’t _that_ masochistic. And maybe Harry wasn’t as good of a boy as he liked to pretend to be after all.

Louis wasn’t anywhere to be seen in the main room so Harry didn’t even have to look ashamed as he rolled all over the beddings.

It felt _so good_ to stretch out his body like that, too. This time it was a delicious, pleasant ache that sparked across his muscles as he curved his spine and straightened his legs. It didn’t hurt, it felt _amazing_. Phenomenal. Oh, how Harry had missed not feeling like his body had out-aged him by two hundred years.

As Harry relaxed back against the softness of the fabrics his brain backtracked a couple of steps.

 _It really didn’t hurt._ Nothing hurt. Nothing.

His _leg_ didn’t hurt? It also wasn’t all stiff and forced into an uncomfortable position.

Harry blinked down at himself and, just as he had already figured out, found his injured leg unwrapped and exposed.

It was _gross_. His fur was matted where the bandages and cast had been tight around his leg, and the wound definitely wasn’t pretty. There would be a nasty scar for sure, and for some reason the pain wasn’t registering at all. There was no way that that wasn’t hurting like a bitch.

No pain, no cast, and no bossy alpha nearby to boss him out of the idea allowed Harry to come to a—possibly _slightly_ risky conclusion. He possibly also was once again high on something. Hormones? Drugs? Both? Those would explain the lack of pain.

Harry would blame everything on those, he decided, as he idiotically forced his body into a shift.

Not good. At all.

_Fucking shit._

It took Harry for what felt like forever to be able to even think about moving. For the longest time he was just focusing on not throwing up all over himself, panting against the floor like the failure he was.

An idiot. Such a shit idea. Fucking _ow_.

No matter how strong of a painkiller-hormones he was doped up with they did fuck-all when his body re-shaped and re-grew and re-tore itself.

 _Bad_ idea. The worst.

When Harry finally shakily sat up in the pile of quilts, his muscles ached in the bad way and his joints popped loudly as he straightened his posture. With slow, sore movements he curled up, knees pulling up against his chest so he could feel small and secure.

Harry was positioned by the fireplace to stay warm, but without the thickness of his fur the air of the hut was almost uncomfortably chilly. He distractedly arranged one duvet to cover his lap and uninjured leg, and tugged another one—the softest one that may or may not have been the Louis’ one—around his shoulders. Once he was settled comfortably enough Harry turned his attention to the now stinging and aching wound.

With careful fingers he traced the marred skin of his calf. The edges of the gash, where the teeth of the trap had teared through his skin, muscle, and bone, was slowly healing. It looked morbid, way worse than it had when in canine form. The shift had stretched the sore looking skin in a way that had caused the scabbing to tear, fresh blood starting to rise to the surface.

Harry wrinkled his nose, disgusted by the sight. Why did he keep doing these things to himself? He could, instead, just be normal for once. Happy, healthy, and not in pain! Too much to ask? Figures.   

“Oh...”

Harry startled at the sudden, albeit soft, sound, and snapped his head towards the source of it.  

 _Louis_ was standing in one of the doorways with a handful of fresh bandages, a damp cloth hanging from his fingertips.

Whatever Harry had planned on saying as the first thing when he was able to speak again, it was long gone now. Speechless. Honestly. Like a complete idiot. Once again.

Louis’ eyes were sharp and suspicious.

All the surprise over Harry’s new form faded quickly and the look was replaced with what seemed almost like anger. No. He _definitely_ looked angry.

Harry felt like shrinking down in on himself to escape the piercing look and the way the alpha was towering over him. Instead Harry just flushed hotly and awkwardly played with the quilt wrapped around his shoulders. Brilliant. Mucked up again by just existing. Good going.

Harry didn’t move or _breathe_ the whole time Louis made his way to him. He felt like a prey animal; wide-eyed and shaky, and afraid of making the wrong move. Harry decided to just watch the alpha, and hope that the man wasn’t actually as angry as he looked on the surface.   

“What’s your name then?” Louis asked after _a long_ tense silence.

He was avoidant and pointedly focused on the task of cleaning Harry’s leg, which seemed to be the only reason why he was anywhere near him. Harry, on the other hand, was bottling up so many overwhelming emotions that he was worried what’d happen when it would be too much. The alpha was just so close. So angry. So gentle and intimidating and talented with the way he was t _aking care of Harry._

So, of course, instead of behaving like a nice respectable person and introducing himself with some good manners, Harry blurted out: “Depends on what your last name is.”

At least his tone was more sweet than thirsty…

He did end up blinking maybe a bit too innocently, when Louis’ sharp gaze snapped up to meet his. He was trying okay? He wasn’t being a disgrace on purpose…

“We are sticking with ‘ _Bruin_ ’, then?” Louis said, tone dropped lower and rougher. _Pissed._

Okay, so. Louis _maybe_ didn’t share Harry’s precious feelings. _Yet._ But Harry could be patient. He definitely could. The main struggle was clearly going to be avoiding his feelings getting hurt _while_ he was being patient…

Just the tone of the voice had Harry’s gaze drop down. He could tell he was flushing some more from the dismissiveness of the reply, and he really had to force his shoulders to relax instead of letting them rise up in unsure humiliation.

Harry clearly wasn’t very good at this. He was just too damn sensitive when it came to actual _feelings stuff_ … And annoyingly no one never wanted to have any fun. Boring. Boring Louis, and everyone else ever except Niall who didn’t mind Harry’s amazing sweet talk.    

“It’s Harry,” Harry said defeatedly, staring down towards his lap where he was still playing with the edge of the quilt.

“Hm.”

That’s it.

 _‘Hm,’_ and nothing else. Remember Harry’s struggle with the whole _‘not getting his feelings hurt’_ -thing? Yeah, _that_ thing.

Not starting out so well.

Harry frowned at his fingers. It was frustrating that he honestly had to try not to get upset. How pathetic was that? And over such a tiny thing too. Maybe it was his instincts’ fault? Maybe this whole thing had tricked his body and hind-brain into thinking that Louis and him were already something more than just strangers.   

And that’s what they _were_. And that’s what Louis clearly wanted them to remind as. So much so that he was actually getting angry over the fact that Harry was even _there_.

And on the other side there was Harry, idiotic stupid Harry, who had actually managed to develop some sort of twisted saviour-crush situation for Louis.

“ _Harry._ ”

His name called out with an impatient tone wasn’t what snapped Harry out of his gloomy thoughts. No. It was the confident hand that was now tilting his chin up to meet Louis’ calculating gaze.

The eye contact was stretching. Burning.

Harry had to swallow down a nervous... _something._ A whimper maybe. He couldn’t move away from the touch—not that he really wanted to—and he wasn’t sure how long he could hold the direct eye contact before his instincts would go insane.

His heart was going a bit insane too. This was _intimate_ , okay? And Louis was _touching him_. Willingly. Maybe Harry wouldn’t have to be so patient with the feelings-project after a—

“Are you healed enough to leave?”

Right.

Slap in the face.

 _Heart-fucking-break._ Seriously, his soul was breaking into tiny shards. What a cruel world. Harry wanted to pout while he cried on the inside.

He was left speechless once again, dumbfounded. His inner dramatic monologue wasn’t even close to reaching the surface. It was probably for the best too; the guy very clearly hated him enough as it was...

Which was confirmed with the way Louis sighed, deep and weary and exasperated, before letting go of Harry. He moved away, out of reach. _Pointedly._           

“Shift back,” Louis ordered with an already familiar furrow weighing his brows, “There’s no space for us both like this and you’re clearly not taking the hint to sod off.”

Harry perked up a bit at that, and tried to grin as he did some mental gymnastics to ignore the rude side mark. This meant he wasn’t being kicked out anymore, and he could pretend that he was wearing Louis down; growing on him. Harry forced his smile to widen some more.   

“You make a peep and you’re out. I don’t care if it’s freezing and you can’t get into the main house, I’m not getting up and out in the middle of the night for you. So just stay out of the way. Clear?” Louis snapped, _unnecessarily_ harsh, and his eyes unfriendly enough to have Harry’s smile droop slightly.

With pure stubbornness Harry forced it back in place, not allowing space for insecurity. Instead of the sudden hostility, he rather focused on being curious about what the ‘main house’ meant, and braved on.

“Yes, Louis,” he chirped his agreement, annoying and too puppylike even to his own ears.

To avoid seeing the inevitable scowl rising on the alpha’s face in response, Harry turned to kick the duvet from around his healthy leg, before shifting into his wolf with a loud snapping of bones.

The sharp stinging of the shift was easier to handle than the irritated look on the face Harry just wanted to see pleased with him. What even had changed? Harry had thought they had made some progress...

Honestly. Why did he end up in these situations?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hoping this isn’t feeling too slow with how they haven't been able to verbally communicate before now. But worry not, now that Harry has been unleashed there will be more... everything? :')
> 
> (I'm having way too much fun writing dopey-Harry's inner monologue. It's just cute how his thirst for Louis comes out when he can't control it lol.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update for you.
> 
> I hope you like it.
> 
> xx

You know how it can be helpful to believe that there must be a certain limit to the amount of misfortune in your life? Well.

Harry was over that nonsense. _Fuck_ that.

There obviously were no limit. No. No such thing. There was just an endless, bottomless pool of misery and fuck ups and held back tears.

Fuck. That. Fuck that.

“Dang it,” Harry growled quietly, just in case Louis had actually managed to sneak back in the hut without Harry noticing him. The tone was what made the delivery, anyway.

Louis was not in the hut, a quick paranoid glance around told Harry that much. It was stupid of Harry to even doubt it; it wasn’t like he could miss Louis’ presence that easily, even if he tried to. His nose and brain were _obsessed_. Hardwired to track the alpha. Which was such bullshit. It had barely been a couple of miserable weeks. _Bull. Shit._

With a sigh Harry leaned more heavily on the sill of the small window. He had been spying out of it the whole day, confused, annoyed, and slightly worried.

Harry tried really hard _not_ to be worried because this had happened before. Well. It happened _most days_ , now. But. Harry was good at pretending that the worry and his own insecurity weren’t the reason why he kept looking out the window.

He was just _curious_. Obviously.

Having shifted back to human Harry had managed to figure out how to balance himself up against the dinner table and peek out the hut’s window. It wasn’t the most stable of positions by any means but hey, his leg was already fucked and so was his brain, so... Who cared?

From that small smudged window Harry saw the back of a massive mansion-like house. And because Harry was horribly curious--and not at all worried and insecure--he kept staring at that said house-castle-mansion the whole day. Day after day.

The house itself seemed to be unlived and empty, that wasn’t the main attraction here, no. The entertainment was the subtle trail which Louis, in his wolf form, had left behind when leaving the hut early in the morning.

It had still been about the width of a wolf’s chest when Harry first had fortified by the window to keep watch. Now, as the world outside was nearing complete darkness, the trail was almost fully covered by snow again.

The darkness had became his sign. A red flag, so to say.

“Oh boy,” Harry sighed tiredly, instead of the ten part litany of expressive curses he had in mind. With a last glance towards the window he finally turned away, limbs stiff and cold from not moving, his brain much the same. The only thing visible from the glass by now was his own stupid face anyway, the darkness blocking everything else.

Harry had learned the hard way to be careful lowering himself down from the table. It was possible that he was just the _tiniest bit_ clumsy, and not being able to use his other leg was making it way, way worse. As in; he may have made his wound a bit sore and irritated a couple of days ago and then Louis had yelled at him with his eyes--without saying a word--as he had been forced to reset the bones… Totally a minor irritation, not worth the fuss.

That silent yelling had probably been worse than if the man had actually shouted at him. It was worse than the pain, to be honest.

The Red Flag of Darkness meant that it was time to shift back, as soon as possible. Which Harry did with a pained grunt and the grit of his teeth. Getting caught flailing about on two legs would just lead to an extra sulky Louis and even lonelier tomorrow.

The human form was an absolute _no-no_.

Harry had quickly realised that the bright idea to shift from his wolf that first time had been a horrible one.

A mistake. _An_ _offence_.

If Louis had been short and reproachful before it was nothing compared to how things were after Harry had messed everything up. How things were _now_.

Not that Harry knew what he had done this time... Usually he was able to figure out where the problem was, when he screwed up, but this time he had only been able to pinpoint _when_ the change had occurred.  

Ever since forcing the shift Harry had had the hut for himself from the earliest hint of morning to the late evening. He had only caught Louis leaving the hut once, as he usually was still asleep himself, but the alpha disappeared day after day nonetheless.

Not that Louis hadn’t been avoidant before the whole ‘ _Hello, yes, I have a human face too’_ \- episode. But now it was even more than before. More than more.

Was it even avoidance anymore if Louis was barely there to actively avoid Harry? Wasn’t that just called _fucking off_?

Harry was kind of considering fucking off himself, broken leg be damned. That’s probably what Louis was aiming for, anyway. It wasn’t that impossible to imagine the alpha just spending his days somewhere close by, waiting to see if Harry would finally snap and disappear.

Too bad Harry wasn’t quite yet overly keen on facing the harshness of the winter in the wilderness with his bum leg. And his _bum fucking brain_.

His bum brain which short circuited the second that the door of the hut cracked open.   

Harry didn’t know how Louis managed it, opening the door in wolf form, but he did it somehow, and it was a _Bliss_. Always. Every single time. Meeting another wolf when in wolf form? After yet another day of boredom and nothingness? Meeting _Louis_ ? As a wolf? _Amazing_.

This was definitely the highlight of his day. Which...

See? Bum fucking brain. How much more miserable and confused could his feelings get? He was supposed to be confronting Louis about-- about everything! Not whining in excitement like some unmannered cub. Only pissing himself could’ve made this any worse.

Luckily so far he had managed to avoid _that_. Small miracles.

The day spent in solitude had built up all kinds of tension and pressure under Harry’s skin, and it was very clearly exploding uncontrollably now. Harry didn’t even realise when he had bent his torso down, rump up, and his tail wagging as he bowed, overly eager and playful. Or… It wasn’t really _playful_. Harry didn’t want to play. He just needed to have Louis there and _notice_ him. Maybe do something? Say something?

Fuck, this was probably bad... Right? So much weird negative energy was tingling Harry’s joints, making him shake his fur a couple times more than it was necessary. The world turned into a blur when he did it, and it felt like a momentary relief. His injured hind leg was sticking out in an odd angle but it didn’t slow his almost desperate wiggling.

The reaction he was provoking was nothing new. Louis looked annoyed, _guarded_ , following with an unimpressed pinch on his face how Harry flattened against the floor and not so subtly crawled closer. His ears were slightly pressed back, his posture more defensive than anything. It didn’t make much sense. Harry wasn’t being aggressive, he wasn’t attacking. It was an open fucking invite, for fuck’s sake.

Apparently it wasn’t what the alpha wanted.

Louis snarled, loud in the small space of the hut, and snapped his teeth, his whole body pulling tenser at once. He was staring at Harry, eyes almost flashing their whites as the wildness of his gaze threatened to overflow.

This wasn't good. For neither of them. Harry didn’t know _what to do_ and for some reason Louis wasn’t stepping in to-- Harry didn’t want to say _‘fix it’_ because that would’ve been unfair. But even just… Contributing? Trying to solve whatever was happening? Now it was just uncomfortable. Uncontrolled. _Out of hand._ They just kept building up each other’s anxiety and anxiety filled tension.

Harry didn’t know what this was all about. Honestly, he had no fucking clue. The only thing his starved hindbrain was able to do was to reflect the alpha’s energy, and that was doing nothing good either. Harry was so confused, his hormones and thoughts a mess, and all rationality he had left trying to escape from his mind.

Harry was stuck here.

Not because he couldn’t leave but because he didn’t want to, in some twisted way. Sure, it wasn’t likely that he would make it too far if he tried to find his way to Niall’s now. But it was an option. He _could_ leave, physically. Well. With a broken leg and body and brain, but still. He could.

It didn’t help that his instincts were running wild, his clear thoughts easily pushed over by the more animalistic patterns whenever there was too much tension. And boy, was there tension...     

With a sad whine Harry lowered his head, twisting to flash the underside of his throat.

Usually not the best move when dealing with stressed-looking, somewhat aggressive alphas. But this was different. At least something inside Harry was insisting on it. Hopefully it wasn’t just delusion…

Louis _had_ helped him. He had taken him in and taken care of his leg. _Of him_.

There was trust, after that. However misguided that may have been.

Harry’s own ears started to press back and then stayed pinned as the alpha’s growl didn’t ease. There was no sharp jab of teeth slashing his skin though, nor was the warning snarl rising from too deep from the bigger wolf’s chest.

With another soft whimper Harry shifted closer, looking away, and pausing when the volume of the growl rose. His bared throat felt vulnerable and the position twisted his neck awkwardly, but Harry couldn’t pay any mind to that. His wolf was fixated on getting close to the other wolf, admadant on bringing the tension down.

He moved again, nails scraping the old floorboards, crawling slow as his tail sweeped placatingly. The growl got sharper again, causing Harry’s body to still. He moved again when the teeth that could send him flying in a heartbeat never came in contact with his skin.

Harry could feel how the excited anxiety was building within him. This was closer than he had gotten in _days_.

Louis was clearly stating his disdain for having Harry in such close proximity but he wasn’t chasing him away. Which… Basically meant he liked Harry again, right? _Right?_

 _Barely tolerated_ if the the threateningly lifted upper lip was anything to go by…

Louis was being prickly and, as far as Harry knew, unreasonable. But he wasn’t chasing Harry back to his spot by the fireplace. At least not right away, like he had done the days before. There was still something odd and hostile wrapped all over Louis’ stance and demeanor, but the hurtful fire had dimmed from his eyes.

He wasn’t ignoring Harry. He wasn’t threatening to bite, as he had done a couple of times before, when Harry had gotten too close.

Which... Harry hadn’t meant to push Louis that far. Never. He was honestly trying his hardest not to make the alpha that uncomfortable. Everything was just so damn difficult.

Louis wasn’t giving him proper clues. His reactions weren’t in-line and sometimes something was okay and the next day it wasn’t. It was impossible.

Even Harry knew that all of this wasn’t fair on him. He hadn’t caused this… Whatever the issue Louis was dealing with was. There just was no way the alpha was behaving like this _because_ of Harry. Sure, his presence clearly had triggered it, but something had had to go wrong way before Harry had managed to caught himself in that damned trap. Even Harry couldn’t credit himself for being that influential.     

It wasn’t fair, or nice. Obviously. Yet Harry couldn’t help but want to erase the tension from Louis’ body.           

The fact that his instinct driven, starved hindbrain was screaming ‘ _mate mate mate’,_ louder and louder every day, wasn’t making clear thinking that easy… Being cooped up in Louis’ scent was definitely messing with him.

Louis sighed, suddenly.

 _Finally_.

It was heavy and tired, as if he was letting something go. Harry could almost feel how the bursting balloon of that dark- _something_ deflated with that weary exhale.

He didn’t dare to move.

The grumbling growl had died down slightly and Harry could feel his own muscles starting to relax. The fur by his nape and over his shoulders was now smoothening down, instead of staying spiked up. The shift in Louis’ energy was tangible and the effect of it instantaneous.

Harry’s relieved, reflecting, sigh slumped him heavier against the floorboards, his body suddenly way more tired than it had any right to be.    

When Louis’ muzzle brushed over his still bared throat the relief only intensified.

The touch was a complete surprise, and so was the gentle way Louis nudged him to get up to his feet.

Harry hadn’t even noticed he had started panting but it was loud in his ears now. His ribcage was expanding with every irregular breath, harshly stretching his sides. It was so stupidly easy for him to get overworked and worked up by the smallest of things, these days. He couldn’t help it. It was just that… That _relief_. Some sort of recognition.

Harry really was at his wits end and this could be a sign of a change. At least it broke the routine.  

The huff of Louis’ breath ruffled hotly through Harry’s fur and distracted him into just _feeling_. It was instantly making him more sluggish, hazy and fuzzy around the edges, and the chances of him actually standing up were getting slimmer by the second. Not that Louis knew any of this. Maybe he just thought Harry was lazy and weird?     

The alpha’s touch stayed though, and Harry fought against the pleasurable fog filling his mind. He didn’t want to risk irking Louis off now that he had finally lost some of the tension. Now that they were _touching_.     

When he finally found his balance on his three working legs, Louis pushed against his side, leaning in as if to support Harry. And like. If something needed support right then it was probably Harry’s _heart_?

Harry wasn’t going to question this, now. He was just going to roll with it, enjoy it for as long as it lasted, and then think it over later. The likelihood of this blowing up in his face later was high, so it was better to leave it alone for now.

Louis slowly herded Harry to his spot by the fire and then carefully shouldered him to laying back down. The quilts and pillows gathered on the floor were welcoming and soft, while the glow of the burning ashes was still warm enough to heat the small hut.

Louis was being quiet, paws soft on each careful step he took around Harry. His ears were relaxed now, tail just hanging loosely as he made sure Harry’s injured leg was doing alright.

Harry yawned, tired but also trying to trick Louis’ wolf into further relaxation. See, Harry was harmless? Nice and small, only wanting cuddles. Easy to deal with. A cutie.

No need to start a fight every time he breathed.

Harry’s paws felt shaky now that he wasn’t standing on them, and he was starting to suspect that maybe the change in Louis’ demeanor had been because of a change in his.

There was a limit on how much Harry could handle, and he had been nearing it for a while now. He still was. In some ways ending up here, instead of staying home, had probably made his situation and condition worse.

Maybe it was showing, maybe it wasn’t. Harry didn’t really care because Louis was being careful and soft, nudging pillows closer for Harry to curl against.

Then. Their eyes met for a short second, irises hued orange by the fire.

Harry couldn’t bring himself to worry about meeting the alpha’s eyes so head on and so soon after such an intense greeting. He couldn’t bring himself to concentrate on anything else but the deep sadness that he found in Louis’ gaze.              

The moment was over quicker than it had started.

Louis looked away, stepped over Harry, and situated himself behind the cure of Harry’s back. They were separated by a wide enough space but the fact that Harry could feel Louis’ presence on his quilts, their backs facing each other, was far more than he had even dared to hope for.

Harry’s dreams were filled with icy snow that reached his chest as he struggled to move forward. As his joints turned hopelessly stiff and his body started to shut down, he could sense sad eyes looking the other way.

*

Unfortunately Harry wasn’t surprised to find himself alone when he woke up some couple of hours of fitful sleep later.

Everything was pitch black, the fireplace long gone cold, just like the spot where Louis had settled down for sleep. It was quiet, much like it always seemed to be, surrounded by the snow blanketed forest.

Harry shifted, carefully guiding his wolf back inwards while pushing into his longer, human limbs.

It took him a while to stop trembling as he settled into his furless skin. His teeth chattered, muscles cramping as if he had worked them especially hard. With a stuttering exhale Harry slowly uncurled from the protective position he had instinctively hunched into, and wrapped one of the thicker quilts around his shoulders. The shift still stung, but it was nothing compared to how it had been the first couple of times.

“Oh. You’re awake.”

The spooked bark-like sound that ripped from Harry at the sudden words was way too animalistic to be comfortable for his human vocal chords.

It was sharp and alarming, causing Harry to gag around the feeling of it in his throat.

He had thought he had been alone. Again. He had just assumed...

Louis’ teeth were bared at him, very wolf-like and unnatural on his human features. A direct and clearly instinctive response to the defencive, startled cry of Harry’s. The man’s human teeth weren’t as intimidating as those of a wolf’s. That didn’t lessen the message of the gesture though, no. Perhaps just made it stronger. The alpha must’ve had his wolf close to the surface for it to push through like that.   
  
Harry tilted his head, down and to the side, and allowed a soft, placating whine to push out through his nose

He couldn’t help but notice how he had been spending quite a lot of time in this position. Eyes to the ground, nervous, but hopeful. Idiotically hopeful.

He didn’t even know this man.

Fucking omega nonsense.   
  
The new sound seemed to snap Louis out of whatever he had been immersed in within the privacy of his mind, and his eyes quickly refocused on Harry. Their eyes didn’t meet now; Harry let his wolf’s instincts control his gestures, as he wasn’t sure how strongly Louis’ was in the lead.

The hut was almost completely silent. Outside the growing fresh layer of snow was further hiding the small building, slowly separating them from the rest of the world. There wasn’t even wood crackling in the small fireplace to break the hum of the silence.

“ _Sorry._ ”

The alpha’s voice carried raspily through the darkness, cutting the silence just for a second before they were wrapped into it once again. Harry blinked, surprised by the strained apology.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected but… He hadn’t been expecting _that._

Instead of replying Harry swallowed, his throat still feeling funny after the disturbing alarm-call. His cheek was pressed against cool floorboards where he had tipped down while trying to appear smaller, throat out as recklessly as ever.

Harry remained frozen in place even as he heard Louis moving closer. He could see the alpha as a darker shadow against the rest of the hut, and as he approached, his features appeared clearer.

Harry tried to sigh the unsure tension from his body but along that exhale he breathed out an unplanned, frantic yet quiet, whine.

And then the sound wouldn’t die down.

His confused desperation must’ve been obvious. There was no way it wasn’t. His wolf wanted to squirm; wag it’s tail and pant and lick Louis’ lips while showing their soft underbelly. It was embarrassing.

The whine only got louder as Louis got closer. Harry was probably blushing red from the humiliation, his body once again acting against his wishes.

“It’s okay,” Louis shushed him, quiet and not a trace of condescend in his tone. It was a warm tone. Warmer than what Harry had heard from the alpha. Ever.

It was as if Louis had settled something within himself. Came to some sort of conclusion about something Harry had no idea about. Either way, there was now a clearer sense of direction and decisiveness in the way the alpha was moving.   

“You’re okay.”

Harry felt the words more than heard them. There was a barely-there touch of fingers running through his hair, soft and experimental at first, giving Harry time to pull away. When he didn’t-- _which… Of course he didn’t-_ -the touch became firmer.

It was different like this, with both of them in their human forms. Communication was different in this skin, everything felt different; every gesture meant different things than they did for wolves.

Harry was shaking again, but when was he not? He wanted to turn around to face Louis but he wasn’t sure if that was allowed. So. He didn’t move.  

It was pretty obvious that this kind of senseless submission probably wasn’t the healthiest thing Harry’s brain could’ve came up with but… In that moment it was easier to give in to it, rather than fight the instinct.

Maybe this was a beginning for something slightly better. Maybe Harry would soon enough be able to balance his omega-instincts out again.

Maybe…

Louis’ knees nudged against the curve of Harry’s back as he settled down. His hands were smoothing Harry’s curls and brushing over the heated skin of his neck.

There was still tense energy travelling to Harry’s muscles through the contact, but the calming intention softened the sting. It was obvious from the sound of Louis’ shallow breaths that this wasn’t easy for the alpha. Yet… He kept going.  

“I’m not any good at this-- Any good _for_ this. It’s not fair to you,” Louis said after a long while, voice quiet and rough around the edges. The feel of him remained stiff, even as he kept running his gentle fingers over the bumps of Harry’s ribs, now under the duvet. “You need something else. I don’t know if-- I don’t know what you need. But…” There was a hint of growl seeping into his tone. “I don’t think I can… I’m no good. You need something else.”

The touch was clumsy but careful, and it was solely focused on soothing Harry, even while the alpha was clearly deep in thought and muttering to himself. Maybe he thought Harry was asleep, or maybe he just didn’t care if he heard?

Maybe he meant him to hear?

The palms against Harry’s vulnerable, soft side were warm and moved methodically. Up and down and back up again, under the duvet, pushing it down to reveal more of his bare shoulders and back. The way Louis scruffed his nape reminded Harry of how older siblings bossed about their younger ones. Although Louis wasn’t bossing him about now, no. He was-- _gentling_ him?

It felt like a fragile beginning of an apology.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for my slowness. 
> 
> Unfortunately I'll have to warn you guys that I might be slow in the future too. That not-so-nice thing that came up in my personal life is an on going thing for now and although it's being taken care of, it's been quite rough and no doubt will keep being so. I love writing and really enjoy this story so it's :((( for me when I can't keep up with my own schedules. I'm sorry. I know how frustrating waiting for updates can be.<3 
> 
> I decided to rethink the whole rest of this story as this obviously isn't going to be that short after all, hah! I made some changes and decided to include things that weren't originally in the plans. I can't wait to write those ideas out and show you too! Hopefully you'll enjoy what this brainchild of mine will turn into and hopefully you enjoyed this new chapter as well. 
> 
> Yes, it is slow, but some of the best things often are, right?
> 
> All the love,  
> Shy xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I feel like this chap might be a bit of a mess but then again maybe it's because I wanted Harry to be bit of a mess. lol. I have too much fun bullying my characters.

1/2

It was acutely obvious that Harry was annoying the crap out of Louis.

It was amazing.

Harry thoroughly enjoyed being a little shit, especially when he was _pretty sure_ that Louis was becoming more _fond_ of him rather than getting more murderous. 

The truth was, that although Louis was horrifyingly intimidating when he got irked by something, he seemed to be more bark than bite. Once again; Harry was _pretty sure._ Oh, don’t get him wrong. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that Louis _could_ have been _all_ bite. He just— chose not to be?

At least for now. 

He was prickly as hell, still, snapping at Harry left and right, both verbally and with actual teeth. _And yet_ he never followed through.

Harry was being whiny? Growl at Harry until he looked terrified, and then, still, proceed to tolerate the continuous whining for however long it lasted. Harry was being clumsy and making a mess? Snap at him but, still, clean up the aftermath. Harry sneaked an extra pillow from Louis’ bed? Bitch at him for fifteen minutes but still let him keep it. Harry was being too pushy? Snarl at Harry but, _still_ , let him squirm into close proximity.  
  
Well, the last one was a bit different. Sure Louis allowed Harry to inch much closer now than in the beginning, but he would only tolerate a short moment of contact, if none at all, before jerking away with a harsh grimace on his face. His so insanely attractive face. Sour but attractive. Louis was. All of him. Not just his face.  
Right.

So. Of course, the second Harry had spotted this pattern and realised how much of the alpha’s behaviour was just a pissy facade, he had done his best to test his luck. Probably not the _best_ idea, and probably not the nicest thing either, but. But. Harry was allowed to amuse himself. He was careful not to push too much, too, always keeping an eye out for real hurt that he could accidentally cause. He was a good lad, okay. He had _some_ manners.

And maybe, _maybe_ , while Harry was telling himself that he was doing it just for amusement, he maybe also genuinely wanted Louis’ attention...

Attention that Louis was more likely to give him if he was being a nuisance.  
  
Harry firmly told himself it was just for shits and giggles when he pretended to try standing up on human legs for the first time without support—even after Louis’ warning glares—and then purposefully landed on the alpha’s bed, swiping a book or two from the table as he went down.  
  
Fair enough, it hurt like a bitch when he knocked the knee of his bad leg against the bottom of the table as he fell. As in, it hurt enough that he actually had to squeeze his eyes shut to deal with the searing pain. It didn’t help that it felt like his breath had been punched right out of him.  
  
Louis had a pained, long-suffering scowl shadowing his face, but yet, with an irritated under-breath growl, he appeared by Harry’s side to check the damage he had managed to cause on himself.

_No pain, no gain._

All of this was great and fun and all. They were finally kind of talking, Harry was having a blast, and Louis didn’t look like he would rip Harry’s face of just for the sake of it anymore. Improvement, definitely!

So, of course, that was when the universe realised Harry was having it _too easy_.

Can’t have that.

*

Louis was leaving to get more firewood and he was layering on multiple scarfs to block the mid-winter wind.

Harry was in his wolf form, doing his best to trip the alpha over by getting tangled in his legs.

“Quit it, Bruin,” Louis snapped, brows low and mouth hidden behind a thick knitted scarf. A mouth that was most likely tilted down. He was using the pet name though. Might’ve just as well called Harry his _sweet_ _darling_.

Harry wagged his tail more eagerly and leaned heavier against the man’s legs. Louis looked like he had no idea what to do with him; hands halted in mid movement, uselessly hanging in the air as he scowled down at Harry.

Why was Louis so good looking?

It was painful. _Tragic_. Had Harry been in his human skin he would’ve told Louis exactly that. Although he would’ve probably just received a cold, unamused stare as a reply. Once again.

But Louis _deserved to know._

“Alright, that’s enough,” Louis said, pushing at Harry’s snout where he had leaned his head against Louis’ side, longingly— _but_ with _complete_ dignity—staring up at him.

Harry grumbled, backing up just enough to give the man space to tug his winter boots on.

“You shouldn’t even be up on that leg,” Louis muttered, eyes focused on the laces of the shoes as he tied them. Harry just quietly watched the graceful and practised dance of his fingers. Even the way Louis arranged the legs of his snow trousers over the boots was attractive to Harry. The trousers were horrendous, old and dark green. But on Louis..?

“I’ll never get rid of you if you keep messing about with it,” Louis continued then, a displeased lilt to his voice, as he straightened up from the crouch he had been in.

Who even wore dark green? Psh. Talk about fashion disaster.

Harry’s tail didn’t stop its wagging though. He wasn’t taking the alpha’s grumbling too personally—or he was trying not to—the complaining was obviously just to keep up a front. Or so Harry liked to imagine.

Also, Louis tended to be a bit nastier with his words when Harry was in his wolf form. Maybe he got distracted and forgot that Harry wasn’t actually his pet dog called Bruin? Or maybe it was harder for him to bite his tongue when Harry was like this; emotions didn’t really show that strongly on a canine face, after all.

Niall had always said that Harry’s ‘ _heartbroken’_ face was tremendously effective. Wolf version of it too, but the human one in particular. Yeah. Maybe Louis didn’t want to deal with that so he slipped every now and then when Harry’s human face wasn’t there to remind him to be nice.

Ten more points for the brain gymnastics to justify and explain Louis behaviour.

Harry clapped inside his mind, sarcastically. Why did he have to have a crush on such a douche? So much negativity in such a nice looking package. A shame, truly.

Louis didn’t really pay much mind to Harry after that, he just grabbed his gloves and his beanie—which kind of had just found its way in between Harry’s teeth. Because it had smelled nice, sue him—and then opened the door.

And then he left.

Just like that.

Harry shifted.

“Rude,” Harry croaked, pouty and a bit upset.

Even though he was pretending not to be affected, it didn’t mean that Louis’ annoyed words didn’t get to him.

Mostly because he knew that it was justified… Maybe not the rudeness, per se, but the general idea was. Louis had every right to want Harry gone. He was not responsible for him, he didn’t _need to_ help, didn’t need to share his space…

Harry had no reasons or rights to overstay his welcome. Not that there was much ‘welcome’ to begin with...

Which, you know, sucked. He never wanted to leave.

“Unfair,” Harry said, voice still crackly and weak after the transformation. His muscles were trembly as he straightened up, ribs aching with how out of breath he was. Shifting still took a lot out of him. And moving. And thinking. And just _being ._

Which most likely was the reason why Harry stumbled when he tried to balance on his good leg.

He ended up toppling into the frame of the front door, hands pathetically pawing at the air to find somewhere to grab so he wouldn’t fall face first into the wall. Miraculously he managed to catch himself with the help of one of the coats hanging from the hooks on the wall.

“Yaiks,” Harry coughed out, blinking stupidly to kick his heart back on from the momentary panic over braining himself.

It was slightly possible that he hadn’t fully thought through his plan of shifting back into human... in the middle of the hut... where there was nothing to lean against. But, you know, whatever.

The silver lining was the faceful of coat he had now. See? Always look at the bright side.

Harry buried his face into the soft inside-fabric of Louis’ winter coat. The man had several. For survival, most likely. So prepared, and manly. It was a _very_ attractive trait.

Harry hummed to himself, distracted by the thought of Louis, before he made his way to the bed. It took forever and looked idiotic as hell. However, no one was there to judge his ‘ _glide against the walls like a lizard’_ \- technique so Harry wasn’t too self-conscious about it.  

It was only an hour later when Louis came back inside, and once he had hung his clothes, and turned around to face Harry, he did such an obvious double take that it was almost cartoonish.  

“Is that my…” the alpha said, and then trailed off. The soft curiosity and surprise looked good on his handsome face, so real and open. It was like a breath of fresh air and light after the tension of the past weeks.

“Huh?” Harry blinked up from the book he had been reading, marking a page with a finger, before placing it on the table face down. He turned his head to see the alpha—he had been staring the whole time Louis had been undressing from his outdoor clothes but the man didn’t need to know that—and raised his brows. Technically he wasn’t allowed on the bed, as it was Louis’, but technically Harry wasn’t a dog, so Harry didn’t have to care about such rules.

“Why is my jacket there?” Louis asked, nodding towards where the jacket was doing it’s best blending in with the duvet and blankets and… “And… My towels?”

Harry blinked at him before turning his gaze down to see the bed he was lazing on. And yeah. Okay.

Good questions.

Harry cleared his throat, odd flush starting to prickle the tops of his cheeks. “I have no idea?”

With a nonchalant hand Harry pushed his curls behind his ear and with the same movement subtly tried to hide a black t-shirt under the pillow he was leaning against.  _The pillow_ which he had nicked from the bed previously and by doing so had caused Louis to go on that prickly rant... Eh.

The hell. When had he even…?    

“Harry…” Louis sighed, looking like he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose but just barely resisted. He walked across the small space of the hut, pausing by the table to look down at Harry, unimpressed frown on his face. Harry maybe was wearing the alpha’s clothes too. But he had a permission for that!

Well. Not for these exact ones maybe, but still. It surely didn’t deserve such a scowling look.

“You probably left them there and forgot?” Harry offered helpfully, and tried to ignore how he wanted to curl under the fabrics and hide a bit, if Louis was going to keep being an arse about it. Not that there was an _it._ Nothing was going on. Obviously.

“I’m not even going to start with you,” Louis sighed after a short silence. He leaned down to snag up the jacket, probably to just hang it back on the hook by the door, but…

Instead of the usual happy blur of emotions Harry got when Louis willingly got near him, Harry… growled?

Full on deep chested, _rumbling_ , warning growl.

Harry smacked a hand over his mouth.

Which unfortunately did nothing to quiet the sound as it was vibrating his whole upper body.

Well.

“Excuse me?” Louis said, brows flying up, and something almost— _sassy_ in his voice. Harry wished he could have appreciated the tone more but unfortunately he was too busy trying to wrangle the damned wolf of his into submission.  

Okay, so, it had already been established that being close and touching Louis was _amazing._ It was so amazing that Harry felt like he could survive with just that alone. Oxygen? Nutrition? Psh. Harry would attach himself on the alpha like an extra limb and just _flourish_ and glow with the newly found lifesource of his. It was _amazing._ Amazing amazing amazing.

They hadn’t even been touching that much; Harry was still sore all the time and his brain a bit fuzzy and they _hadn’t talked about it_. But it was enough.

And apparently it was enough _and_ so amazing that it had kickstarted Harry’s nesting... eh… urges.

Yeah. Omega instincts were a bitch. And the universe, too. The bitchiest.

Not to forget the bitch of a wolf he had roaming around inside of him, brimmed with the need of approval while stupid with the urge to hoard everything into… a nest. Ugh.

Just… Fuck.

Harry just hoped Louis wouldn’t fight him on this. Because his wolf? His omega? Yeah, _that_ _prick_. Would quite likely not give a fuck about its adoration for Louis if the alpha threatened its’ precious creation.   

 _Precious creation_ where Harry had apparently managed to drag almost everything soft within the hut? And he hadn’t even properly noticed? Well, he had a distant scent-memory from the previous night. As a wolf, finding the nicest smelling items and then moving to the next one, scenting them for himself. Scenting them _as his_.

And then he had absentmindedly spent the past hour collecting the said things on the bed.  

How… Embarrassing.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Louis sighed then, almost exhausted look rising into his eyes, successfully cutting off Harry’s thoughts. The alpha slowly sat down on the edge of the bed--only after checking that Harry wouldn’t start snarling at him again. Which apparently was fine with Harry’s wolf now? Oh yeah, right. Because Louis was the reason Harry was nesting the begin with… “I honestly can’t tell anymore. What… Why are you doing this?”

Harry was startled by the words, shaking his head before Louis had even finished his sentence. Maybe messing with the alpha hadn’t been the smartest idea, after all. No matter how delightful being frustrating could be.

Harry was panicking on the inside. He wanted to explain but he didn’t want to talk about _it._ He wanted to wipe the weariness from Louis’ shoulders but couldn’t really figure out how to do It without humiliating himself with revealing the truth. The _truths_.

  
“Why do you hate me?” Harry’s mouth let out, instead of the avoidant damage control he had planned to move the conversation towards. Which; great. Why not? It wasn’t like this would end up with Harry througfully humiliated. Of course it wouldn’t. That could never happen to Harry. No way.

It was Louis’ turn to look startled and stunned, and the alpha blinked at Harry.

Okay. So, the nesting thing? Deflect. _Deflect deflect deflect._

“I don’t get it,” Harry wondered out loud, genuinely confused but also desperate to distract the conversation from the pile of _stuff_ on the bed. And also careful, as he was hoping to avoid making Louis annoyed with him. Again. “You were alright with me being here in the beginning, right? Well. At least a little bit alright. Did I… Did I do something?”

He probably had done something. That just sounded like the most probable scenario.  

Louis looked like he wanted to leave.

Which, no? Harry never wanted him to leave, he was lovely. _Mean_ but lovely. And that was why Harry was doing this whole _‘highly uncomfortable discussion about what Harry had done to piss Louis off without knowing he had done so and how he could possibly now make it up to him_ .’ Well. He hadn’t exactly planned on doing the conversation _right then_ but anything was better than the nesting topic... or the starvation topic. Or the loser topic. Or the...

With a huffing sigh Louis crossed his arms and, after a short silence, grumbled something. It sounded something like _‘I don’t hate you’_ , and Harry pretended he heard a _‘I love you, Harry-dearest’_ at the end of the grumble-sentence.

Harry tilted his head. He was feeling a bit more confident now that the attention was away from his… things.

He leaned forward.

“Pardon?” he asked, only to receive a suffering eye roll as a reply. The alpha looked very uncomfortable.

Luckily, Harry could help with that.

He scooted closer to the man on the bed, humming contently when the warmth of Louis’ side and thigh touched his. The alpha looked s _lightly_ exasperated but Harry could swear there was a hint of fondness in the corners of his eyes. Honestly. It _was_ there.

Also, Louis was now officially accepted as the part of the nest, so… His stupid hind-brain was pretty pleased about that.   

When the silence started to stretch and Louis didn’t elaborate, Harry decided to be idiotically brave, and pressed his nose against the man’s cheek.

“Lou-is...” he hummed, sing-songy, and grinned a bit. In all honesty his heart was pounding, stressed yet hopeful. This was risky but he was _going for it_. Oh boy, was he ever going for it. There was a soft rumbling sound starting in the alpha’s chest—which, you know, could’ve been either a good sign or a not so good sign—and it was making the back of Harry’s neck tingle. He pushed through, “What did you say?”

“You shifted,” Louis huffed, almost too quiet and fast for Harry to catch on. It was also a bit hard to concentrate while he was secretly celebrating the fact that the alpha wasn’t pushing him away.

Then the words registered fully. And they didn’t make any sense.

“I… I shifted?” Harry repeated, brows furrowing and the playful smile he had been sporting losing some of its strength. However, Harry wasn’t going to lose any of the progress he had just made, and, instead of pulling away to look at Louis, he nuzzled closer.

 _The best._ It was the best. Harry had never came across a nicer place to hide his face than where Louis’ neck met his shoulder. Amazing. The scent? _Amazing._ Harry wasn’t trying to be dramatic but his eyes probably rolled back a little bit. Someone could probably get hard just from this.

Harry crossed his legs.

“So you were fine with me,” Harry concluded, while trying to be subtle with the way he was scenting the side of Louis’ neck, “but then I shifted?”

Louis cleared his throat, and…  Harry grinned, feeling the tremble of it against his cheek. He refused to think it was weird to grin about something like that. It wasn’t. Shut up.

“You look different as a human,” Louis muttered, evasive and grumpy. It didn’t sound like a strong argument and the alpha seemed to be aware of that. Although. What did that even mean?             

“I—would hope so?” Harry answered, eyes closed contently while he plotted how to worm his way on Louis’ lap without Louis noticing it happening. Harry liked the challenge.

Louis sniffed, shoulders tensing. “I don’t like it.”

_Oh?_

Harry sat up. Because. _Oh._

“Oh...” Harry breathed out, brows furrowing.

He slowly let his gaze drop down.

This was hitting a bit too close to some of Harry’s insecurities but, you know, whatever. That’s fine. Great, even.

It wasn’t like his confused omega-brain had managed to trip into some false-impression that this was _his_ alpha-to-be, and now that said alpha was telling him that he was... _gross_.

A frustrated groan cut off the sulky—devastated—direction Harry’s mind was taking.

“No, that’s not— You—”

Louis growled under his breath. Before Harry managed to look back up a strong arm looped behind his neck, pulling him back down against Louis’ chest.

Harry squeaked, tensing up for approximately half a second before his whole body went lax.

Was he dreaming?

There was a cheek against his; a scratchy scruff prickling his skin, and a secure arm wrapped around his shoulders. Harry blinked, fingers curling into the fabric of Louis’ joggers. It was a total accident that his palms had landed on the alpha’s toned thigh. Small miracles.

“Why would you even think _that_?” Louis grumbled awkwardly, still sounding annoyed but now more on Harry’s behalf. Or because of him? It was hard to tell. “Who in their right mind wouldn’t find you attractive?”

That was a compliment. Right? From Louis? About, and to, Harry? A compliment that wasn’t just the figment of Harry’s overactive imagination?

Harry couldn’t help but preen. He grinned, pushing closer to the _firm_ and _very nice_ chest, taking a full advantage of the permission to snuggle it up. Rubbing himself all over the alpha still counted as snuggling in Harry’s books. That was the _good_ kind of snuggling.

“You think I’m attractive?” Harry teased, kneading his fingertips into the muscle of Louis’ thigh.

He _really_ wasn’t prepared for the sudden nip that pinched the hinge of his jaw for being cheeky. Or that’s what Harry assumed it was for. He _was_ being kinda pushy with the way he was sneakily inching his pinky towards Louis’ inner thigh. But hey, to his defence, who could blame him? This was the first time he was actually properly conscious and able to appreciate the _physical contact_.  

“I don’t have time for pretty little Inconveniences poking their noses into my business,” the alpha said then, a bit nastily, as if he was trying to save his reputation, or something. Sounded like some stupid logic someone stupid like Louis would follow.

Harry tried his hardest not to feel deterred by the mean spirited words, and tightened the hold he had on the fabric of Louis’ joggers. That’s right; if the alpha wanted to get rid of Harry, Harry would be taking the jogging bottoms with him. For purely observational purposes, of course.

“But,” Harry said, leering, while trying to distract himself from the harshness of the alpha’s words, “ _you_ think I’m _pretty_.”

“Quit the fishing, darling,” Louis said curtly, an edge firmly back to his voice now. He also caught Harry’s sneaking, wandering hand inside his own, which was annoying.

But also: _Hand holding_.

Harry almost purred.

“You haven’t explained why you’re not healing properly,” Louis questioned then, curveballing Harry with the question so bad that the only thing Harry could do was to try and avoid Louis’ gaze. “Does… _this—“_ the alpha gestured the bed and Harry somewhat awkwardly, “—have something to do with it?”

Okay, so clearly Harry’s deflection wasn’t working. At all. The conversation was running away further and further from Harry’s control. This was trouble. This was probably going to be very bad.

Harry turned  slightly, just to find the alpha frowning at him. Which was nothing new.

What was new was _how close they were_ ; their noses almost touching, Louis’ arms tightening around Harry whenever he moved.  

“The leg is fine?” Harry said, bluntly ignoring the other half of the question.

He was getting nervous now, understandably, but he still leaned his temple on Louis shoulder. He also tilted his messed up leg for the emphasis, moving a pile of quilts and— _other stuff_ at the end of the bed.

“I’m not talking about the leg,” Louis said, scowling harder. He was probably thinking that Harry was being evasive on purpose. Which. Kinda true. “You get whiny in your sleep. And you smell stressed.” He wrinkled his nose. “You’re whiny enough as it is. Could give it a break overnight, at least.”

“You’re mean,” Harry huffed, squinting at the alpha. It didn’t do anything to distract Louis from the humiliating topic, unfortunately… Seriously. Harry couldn’t believe it had only been a couple of days ago when he had been dying for having any conversation with Louis. Even this one. Especially this one. Now that it was actually happening Harry would’ve rather done pretty much anything else instead of admitting what was up with him. Who wanted to admit that they were so gross that no one wanted to…

There just wasn’t any good direction for this conversation to end up leading into, was there?

“It’s just… Just an omega thing. Nothing important.”

Louis arched an unimpressed eyebrow, his open palm sliding up to cup the back of Harry’s neck, and he squeezed gently, “Try again.”

“I don’t want to,” Harry snipped back, heat gathering on the tops of his cheeks. He kept looking down even though he could feel the alpha’s eyes on him. The weight of his palm was as heavenly as it was distracting. “So I don’t have to.”

Louis just kept looking at him.

“It’s embarrassing!”

“Harry,” Louis sighed, “I really don’t give a shit...”

He seemed bored and a bit irritated by Harry’s flustered squirming. As if it was an inconvenience to him, dealing with other people’s emotions. Or something. It was stressing the hell out of Harry.

“Fine!” Harry sat up, knocking a pillow over the edge of the bed while doing so. His heart stuttered as it disappeared from his sight.

It wasn’t fine. Harry really _really_ didn’t want to talk about it. But. Louis was intimidating, alright? Not necessarily in a _scary-bad-makes you cry-_ way, but in a way that made Harry feel small and young and a bit trembly. And apparently it also made him unable to resist talking about _it._ Which:  _Fuck that._

“I’m- I’m… I’m _starved,_  alright! Of… Of touch.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest, face feeling hot and his shoulders tense. There was a burning mass of humiliation growing in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “There. Happy? Now we can stop talking about it.”

The worst part was that Harry kind of felt like creating some distance between the two of them, the humiliation too bright under his skin. However, even though his shoulders were curling away from Louis, his thigh was pressing tightly against the alpha’s back.

“That’s bullshit,” Louis said with a huff of a laugh after a bewildered pause. “Come on.”

Harry furrowed his brows, feeling himself getting upset when he noticed the amused expression on Louis’ face.

“Really?” Harry asked, defencive and quickly getting a bit irked. “Tell that to my migraines and muscle pains. Maybe they’ll stop if _you_ inform them.”

Louis shook his head, looking more curious now than anything. “Okay?” he said slowly, and then: “How would that even happen?”

“Well, how do you think?” Harry huffed, silently proud of himself for managing the sentence without a crack or quiver in his voice. Or swearing.

Louis was looking at him. Just looking.

Harry quickly felt self conscious and wrapped his arms tighter around himself, shoulders rising.

”But… Isn’t it supposed to take months before any symptoms start showing?” The alpha seemed genuinely lost. “You haven’t been here for that long.”

Okay. Fuck this.

“Gee, Louis, I don’t know. Maybe I had a life before I ended up here?” Harry knew he was being an arse but he couldn’t help it. He felt dumb and vulnerable and embarrassed. And Louis was being thick. “And maybe I stopped counting at the six months mark.”

With that Harry felt his confidence to face Louis crumble, and he turned to face the wall with an angry, forceful shift of his body, teeth biting together. He tilted to the side to lie down on the bed, his back to Louis, pretending to have his own space even though the alpha was still sitting _right there_.

His traitor of a wolf was just preening about the closeness, causing his insides to twist in confused yearning while he also wanted to hide and be alone.

The hot and cold of his emotions was typical for nesting instincts but that didn’t make the mood swings any more pleasant. It also made it harder for him to concentrate on anything.  

Which was probably why he forgot he had been upset when he felt the alpha move.

Harry blinked his eyes open curiously, twisting his neck slightly to see why Louis was suddenly kneeling on the mattress. The man just rolled his eyes when he met Harry’s confused gaze, and with a huffing exhale took over the side of the bed Harry wasn’t occupying. Well. There weren’t really _sides_ to the bed, that’s how narrow it was. There was just _bed,_ and Harry was already  _in it_.   

Harry could feel the bird-like flutter of his own heart and a gentle excitement started to bubble under his skin. He squirmed enough to be able to roll over and lay on his side, facing Louis, and with a spreading grin he looked down at the alpha.

Remember those mood swings? Yeah...

“What?” Louis grunted, still messing with his pillow, trying to adjust it. He pulled the black t-shirt from under it, sighed, and then pushed it back. He rubbed his cheek against the pillow for a long time, marking over and against Harry’s scent, which… _Gosh_.

His soft fringe splayed messily over the fabric and his forehead before he paused for long enough to aim a glaring glanze towards Harry. “You smelled whiny and sad. I don’t like it, it stinks up the whole place.”

Harry’s grin widened and Louis glared harder in response.

The alpha held the eye contact for a few stretching moments before clearly getting fed up with it. He didn’t give Harry a chance to react before he had already pulled him down, manhandled him back around to face the other way, and then pressed his chest tightly against Harry’s back.

“Stop squirming,” Louis ordered, the words hot against the back of Harry’s neck.

Harry squirmed more, pleased flush colouring the tops of his cheeks and his skin tingling with the freely offered touch. Louis soft, inpatient growl wasn’t audible but it vibrated from his chest clearly enough. A strong arm caged both of Harry’s in place and a press of teeth against the side of Harry’s neck sent a shocking shiver through his spine.      

“You _do_ like me,” Harry wondered out loud in amazement while his whole body went lax with the alpha’s secure hold. There was a hot puff of air that tickled behind Harry’s ear.

Louis nuzzled his face into Harry’s nape, sighing deeply into his curls. His hold was snug enough to keep Harry in place without making him feel caged in, and Harry couldn’t help the almost overwhelmed whine that rushed over his tongue.

It was everything Harry had been missing, everything his body needed.

And… Everything he- _wanted_?

Except.

Was Louis just doing this because he would otherwise feel as if he was neglecting an omega in his care? Now that he knew. Or, well. Kind of knew. At least the main gist of it. Which was exactly the way things should stay.

“You know,” Louis spoke softly against the sensitive skin behind Harry’s ear, “being touch starved doesn’t explain you stealing my clothes.”

Ah, crap dang it.

1/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I wrote that nesting story a while back and there was something about it that was really fun and interesting to write. And here we are, I guess? :') (It's updated in the tags now too. Sorry if someone doesn't like that and had already started reading this. It wasn't originally in the plans, which is why I'm only now adding the tag.) 
> 
> I hope you liked the first half of this two part chapter! Thank you so much for reading and for the absolutely amazing comments I have been getting. It is so massively appreciated you have no idea. 
> 
> Much love,  
> Shy xx
> 
> -
> 
> shyshyserious.tumblr.com  
> sshyserious@gmail.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy!  
> Sorry for taking forever to post this tail end of the previous chapter. I wanted to cut it in two halves because it was just stretching out a bit too much. Also, you guys remember how I said there's not much plot planned for this but a lot of cuddles instead? Yeah, yup... That's what's up here. (I promise they'll actually get out of the hut at some point... I just like to write cuddles sue me. :( ) Hopefully it's not too action-less. Let me know and I'll come up with something to please yous. We'll turn this into an Avengers storyline in no time if need be! (but. but cuddles.. :( ) 
> 
> Thank you for all the love, I love you all right back. I hope you enjoy this. xx

2/2

When Harry opened his eyes it was pitch black in the hut and his fingers were burning with the unfamiliar _need_ to fix his nest.

His head was quiet for once, just that instinct buzzing in the forefront of everything. If it hadn’t, maybe he would’ve been able to rationalise that the alpha’s arms, still snuggly and securely around him, probably were soothing his frail and starved state enough to quiet his usually loud brain.

As it was, however, those arms and that firm chest were holding him back from gathering and rearranging the pieces of the nest he had chosen.

His hind brain found that distressing.

“Uh… Wha’?” Louis’ voice was heavy and rough with sleep, his body tensing momentarily before relaxing back down when he started to awoke properly. Harry wasn’t really paying attention, too busy trying to tug pieces of heavy fabrics closer to him when he wasn’t able to squirm from Louis’ hold.

“What are you- why are you whining?” Louis asked, quiet and tired, curling his arm tighter around Harry’s belly and pulling him in, sighing sleepily while doing so. “Go back to sleep, love.”

The alpha’s breathing started to slow down, getting heavier, much like the arm holding Harry against his chest.

Harry whimpered, getting agitated. The hut smelled of glowing fire and the ice outdoors and _Louis_ mixed with _Harry,_ and it wasn’t…

Something was still not right. This wasn’t like he wanted it to be. _It_ wasn’t something he would be proud of to show. To show _Louis_.

And Louis had already _seen it._

“No, Lou, need to fix it,” he heard himself explain weakly, his attention on pushing a fluffy towel he had found snuggly along Louis’ jacket.

Harry more felt the heavy exhale than heard it, the warm gust of breath against his neck causing shivers to run up his back.

Louis shifted, leaning on one arm to rise up slightly. He didn’t let go of Harry though, the arm he had wrapped around Harry’s belly, _under_ Harry’s shirt, stayed there, the palm of his hand spread against his abdomen.

“What are we fixing then?” the alpha asked softly after a stretched pause, during which he had probably watched Harry embarrass himself trying to pathetically arrange the mismatched pieces of fabrics.

“This. _This_.” Harry whined when the arm holding him didn’t let up. No. Instead the hand on his belly started to slowly move up and down, soothingly petting the warm skin under the shirt.

It felt _nice_. More than. It was making him sleepy, too. Harry bit his teeth together, something inside him urging him to bare them.

Louis didn’t seem worried. Instead he relaxed against Harry’s back, pressing his face into Harry’s neck. As if he had decided there was nothing to get too fussed over… Not even Harry’s mock-snarl.

“We’ll fix it in the morning, yeah?” His voice was low, still raspy with sleep, but soft. Harry could feel him inhale against his sensitive skin, the palm of his hand pushing up to rest all the way up against Harry’s breastbone. His heart was thundering just beneath it. “How’s that sound, love?”

“I don’t…” Harry exhaled, the shaky loud whimpers that had woken the alpha in the first place finally starting to even out, leaving behind some scattered hiccups. He felt confused, then. Not quite sure what was going on. “Okay?”

Harry’s body felt heavy with sleep, his head suspiciously quiet. His hands were fisted in punched up mix of jacket and towel and pillowcase. Louis’ chest against his back rumbled, pleased, and he was tugged back once again, pulled even closer, if possible.

“That’s it,” Louis sighed, relaxed and barely audible now. “‘S okay, you can finish it tomorrow.”

To be honest, Harry wasn’t quite sure what they were even talking about but Louis’ voice was familiar and sure and comforting, and whatever it was Harry _could finish it tomorrow._ Louis had said so. Louis had checked and Harry trusted his judgement. And… Louis probably knew what he was talking about.

Harry sure as hell didn’t.

 _Next_ time Harry woke up he was splayed all over Louis, cheek smushed against the man’s chest and the realisation that he had definitely been cooped up inside the hut for way too long popping up in his head.

He grunted, stretching a bit before slumping back down and getting comfortable. If he was persistent enough maybe Louis would take him outside with him for a little bit. Just a walk, fresh air, _no four walls._

Harry wasn’t stupid enough to wander out on his own yet, but he _was_ feeling way better, if his still healing leg was left out of the equation.

Having spent the night snuggled up all nice and comfy against Louis had probably everything to do with the sudden spike of clarity in his head and the drop in his pain levels.

His skin felt sensitive and almost sore with it, but in a good way? Harry could tell just by the feel of it that he had a sleepy, pleased flush going on all over his cheeks and chest, and if he hadn’t been so comfortable he would’ve considered vibrating out of his skin from the niceness of it all.

“Enjoying yourself there, huh?” The rumble of the words rolled through Harry in a pleasant way, and even the snarky undertone of Louis’ voice wasn’t enough to urge any movement into Harry’s boneless form.

“Yes,” Harry said, _slurred,_ and rubbed his cheek on Louis’ shirt covered pec.

He wasn’t being pushed away so it was probably alright to try and make it last as long as possible. Wasn’t Harry allowed to have this? Just for a bit, if nothing more. Hadn’t he suffered and dealt with things alone enough by now?

Harry tried not to dwell on the past too much. This was helping now after all, wasn’t it? Being close to Louis like this? It was everything.

This definitely hadn’t been in the plans by any means, ending up hurting himself and almost bleeding out in the middle of a strange forest, just to be found out by a strange alpha. He was supposed to be cuddled up with Niall, whining about being lonely and bored and sad, until the blond gave in and gave him endless pets and played with his curls.

This wasn’t… This- _Louis_ -wasn’t that. This was different, so different, but good nonetheless. Maybe this was something Niall would’ve never been able to give him anyway. Even with all the uncertainty, silent treatments and harsh words Harry had to deal with, maybe this was… Maybe this could be something better?

“Still feel like remaking the nest?”

The words caused Harry to choke on nothing, his previously so languid and relaxed muscles all tensing up at once.

“What?” he managed to splutter, trying to sit up using the almost convulsing way his muscles had  jerked from their relaxation. He didn’t get far; there was a leg between his own and an arm behind his neck, and suddenly a horrifyingly vivid image of what he had been up to during the night decided to show up.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Louis grunted, fingers sneaking into the mess that was Harry’s hair. Harry let out a peculiar little whine at that, torn between butting his head better against Louis’ hand and bashing his head _into Louis’_ so he could escape the moment. “You’ve been whining for me for the whole time you’ve been here, and now that I finally figured out how to make you feel better, you try your best to stop me from doing that.”

Harry huffed out a frustrated little breath at the wording of Louis’ accusation. Sure he had been, and he still was, desperate but there was no need to rub it in his face like that. Such a knobhead, honestly.

“‘m not trying to do anything,” Harry grumbled, not sounding anywhere near as annoyed as he had wanted to, and the gentle hand playing with his hair was the culprit for that. How was he supposed to sound stern when in reality he wanted to curl up and purr, and nip at Louis’ jaw if he even dared to consider stopping those heavenly touches of his.

Unfortunately something like that was still just a distant dream. Bittersweet unrealistic dream. They were in bed together, yes. Cuddled and close, _yes_. Louis had somehow allowed Harry to bother him into this and Harry was definitely reaping the benefits of the whole ordeal. But. The setting was still wrong. Or well, wrong when considering how Harry wanted things to be.

And Harry wanted everything. What this thing with Louis was was barely polite hospitality. They had no real connection, at least not on Louis side… That was for sure. They didn’t really know each other that well.

Louis just wanted him gone.

Harry wanted to kiss him.

“Right,” Louis allowed, shifting under Harry, careful with his hurt leg. He seemed willing enough to let it go for now, even if he obviously didn’t believe a word Harry said.

His hand was warm against the dip of Harry’s back and his fingers were trembling until he pressed them down with more intent. Harry furrowed his brow at the sensation, unable to ignore how it wasn’t the first time Louis hid his body’s reactions like that.

Harry was pretty sure that the alpha didn’t know that he was aware of all those times the shakiness and stutter in his breath had sneaked past whatever defences the man had built up. It was hard _not_ _to_ notice something like that, even if it was when Harry himself was under some pretty significant distress.

After all, his attention was always on Louis.

“You were upset about the nest last night,” Louis continued then, oddly careful and sweet, and Harry was instantly suspicious, defenses flaring up with a splash of humiliation.

“What nest?” Harry asked, the words spitting out just slightly too heatedly to ever be considered genuine… Just. It was mortifying, alright? The last thing he needed was Louis being a prick about it.

The alpha sighed, clearly not too eager to participate in Harry’s attempt to save face. If he even had such thing left at this point…

“Come on, Harry,” Louis said, eye roll almost audible in his voice. He seemed to be thinking that Harry was just being a nuisance on purpose again. “I’m just trying to… You know that I don’t mind right?”

“Mind what?” Harry asked, disgruntled at his own disability to stay stoic under Louis’ petting touches.

Petting touches that turned into a reprimanding tug of his hair. Too bad Harry rather liked the feel of that.

“Why are you- _embarrassed_ about this?” Louis asked, tone almost as demanding as it was incredulous. “It’s not like you can control the instinct, is it?”

Harry squirmed, cheeks heating even further, and he muttered, “ _Of course_ I can’t control it, I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise.” Louis carefully detangled his fingers from Harry’s hair just to smooth the curls back down. Harry did butt his head against the man’s hand this time, _embarrassingly enough._ “And of course I’m embarrassed. It’s embarrassing!”

“No, it’s not?” Louis seemed genuinely puzzled by the way Harry was reacting. In turn Harry was just as lost on the flip side. “I know I…” Louis sighed, frustration alight in his exhale. “I know I can be an arse about- a lot of things. But even I’m not an arse enough to make fun of an omega trying to feel safe when they’re hurt.”

Harry made a noise from the back of his throat, soft and small.

“And _no_ , it’s not embarrassing that you’re nesting for me.” _Oh gosh, no. Why would he say it like_ that _— “_ I’m the one keeping you fed and taken care of, aren’t I? I’d be worried if your omega _didn't_ play it safe and make sure our wolves want to keep each other alive.”

Harry blinked. Then furrowed his brow.

Louis sighed, allowing the conversation to dwindle down for now, and continued to play with a twist of Harry’s hair, keeping him close and warm.

That. That wasn’t right.

That really wasn’t it.

Why was Louis talking as if what they wanted and what their wolves wanted were separate?

And why was he talking as if Harry was just dealing with some fucked up built-in defence mechanism instead of-

Falling in love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe check my tumblr for my desperate plea for prompts.  
> This writers block is a pain.
> 
> Shy xx
> 
> shyshyserious.tumblr.com  
> sshyserious@gmail.com


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m coming with you.”

”No.”

”What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“It means no. Now get.”

“But Louis,” Harry whined, trying to hitch up towards that high note that was sure to annoy the alpha the most. It was always hard to tell if it was a success as Louis seemed to be quite annoyed most of the time anyway.

“You haven’t left that bed in days. How do you think you’ll suddenly be able to handle outdoors?” Louis said, kneeling by the fire to add more wood into the flames. Apparently he had planned to keep Harry warm, and bedridden, while he himself frolicked outside.

 _Without_ Harry.

“I’m going to eat my way through the walls, I swear. Louis, I’m bored to death!” Harry hadn’t moved back towards the bed even though Louis had urged him to do so. He was hovering by the door, still hopeful and eager to go. _Determined._

“You can barely stand,” Louis noted dryly, not even turning to look at Harry while talking to him. The man was truly aggravating.

“I can stand! I have three working legs, I can manage for a bit,” Harry insisted.

He carefully watched the way Louis’ jaws tightened and that already was a signal enough for him to start grinning triumphantly.

Harry squirmed his way out of the heavy jumper he was wearing.

“Fine,” Louis said sharply, eyes firmly locked into the fireplace, and ignoring the way Harry hadn’t waited for him to verbally agree. His shoulders kept their displeased and irritated tension, and he made sure not to turn around until Harry’s canine nails were clicking against the floorboards. “I have to make rounds to check the area. I’m not babysitting you.”

Harry’s wolfish grin probably just annoyed Louis further but it wasn’t like Harry could help it.

“Make sure you can see the house. If you get further than that, you’ll get lost, and I’m not rescuing your whiny arse again,” Louis instructed, apparently still foolishly believing that Harry was paying any attention to his grumblings.

Harry had his nose pressed into the doorframe, ears turned back to listen when Louis would finally move closer and grant his freedom.

And oh, was the freedom ever brilliant.

Icy cold wind rushed in the second the door was open, ruffling Harry’s fur and stinging his mouth and lungs as he inhaled the fresh outdoor air for the first time since forever. Glittering flakes of snow were swirling with the breeze, landing on Harry, and quickly colouring his brown fur with a translucent white hue.

Harry was staring at the view with wide excited eyes.

Everything was white; the ground, the trees, the sky… The thick layer of snow that had accumulated over time only got more added to it as more snowflakes fell from the low hanging clouds.  

Louis, now in all his canine glory, grabbed Harry by the scruff with his teeth just before Harry was able to jump into the unblemished mass of white.

The hold snagged Harry’s fur harshly enough that he allowed his body to be pulled back from the brink of bouncing, and he easily fell against Louis’ side.

Louis growled pointedly around the mouthful of Harry’s fur and tugged a couple of times before releasing him. His blue eyes were sharp looking, as usual, and the commanding glare towards Harry’s injured leg was a clear enough message.

Apparently, however, that wasn’t enough for Louis.

The alpha poked his muzzle against Harry’s side, his warm breaths heating the skin and fur as he inspected—well, _something_ —along Harry’s ribs and then down his flank and hock. The injured leg was curled up and tucked close to Harry’s underbelly, tangling a bit sadly and a lot uselessly.

Louis’ poking and prodding the sore limb with his snout almost got him kicked in the face, and Harry was pretty relieved when the alpha finally huffed out a decisive sigh and stepped back. Kicking someone in the face with a broken leg would’ve probably hurt like hell to begin with but dealing with Louis’ stupid alpha ego would’ve been way worse.

Louis glared at Harry, and then leaned back in, close enough to push his snout under Harry’s.

He rumbled shortly, tail rising up straight towards the sky like a passive aggressive flag, and nudged at the underside of Harry’s jaws. With another rough, deep chested sound he briefly pressed his nose against Harry’s throat.

Then Louis pulled away and glared. Again.

See, here. Harry would gladly drop the idea of swimming in the snow if it meant that Louis would keep fussing over him like this. Well. He’d drop the idea, for now. He still fully intended to roll around in the nearest deep-enough pile of snow the second Louis was far enough not to intervene with his affair.

But… It was probably a slight problem that Harry had no real idea of what Louis was trying to communicate with his narrowed eyes and those growly sounds. Sure, Harry could kind of get the gist of it, context clues and all that, but because Louis was most likely trying to order him around, and was clearly calling him a nuisance with the silent snarl he was pulling, he decided to pretend it all went over his head.

The upside was that Harry didn’t particularly care if Louis was thinking he was a pest or not. Because. _Because_ Louis was very, very obviously scenting him.

As in, full on scent marking. Him. Harry. Very generously, too.

And- and! When Harry didn’t react to the glares and growls fast enough, Louis was _back_ , head thumping heavily into Harry’s chest, ears and forehead rubbing insistently into the longer and thicker fur there.

Harry hadn’t just left the hut, no. He had also clearly entered heaven.

Harry couldn’t stop the happy tremble of his tail, not even when it threatened his unpractised three-legged balance. There also might’ve been a slightly undignified deep-throated mewl involved in the expression of his eager happiness, but Harry tried really hard to ignore that.  

It was a bit overwhelming to be honest, having Louis purposefully cover Harry in his own scent that way. Sure, it was probably just an alpha being territorial and Louis being a decent person, marking Harry as protected, but… Harry could always daydream that it was more than just helping out the injured runt of an omega.

The act was very obviously causing some tension in their wolves too, it was easy enough to see in the way Louis’ tail kept its domineering upwards stance and how Harry’s own muscles were quivering with excitement.

Excitement which Harry’s hindbrain decided to release by biting Louis’ ears and not at all subtly rubbing his throat all over the alpha’s shoulders while doing so…

Louis pulled back, sorting out his fur with a strong full-body shake that sent his ears flopping, and then snorted out an irritated breath at the end of it, the air clouding up into smoke over them.

Harry had already been prepared for the glare before it even landed on him.

 _Whatever_ , Harry thought snarkily as he watched Louis skulk his way away from him and towards the treeline where he finally disappeared.

The next five minutes were spent rolling around in the snow, just to spite the grumpy man.

Harry was gleefully panting at the end of his romp, his fur was heavy with snow and the pads of his paws already freezing. It was so worth it. The fresh feeling of cold air in his lungs and the pleasant strain in his unused muscles felt better than Harry could’ve even imagined.

He felt… alive.

Well. Sure, his hurt leg was pretty much screaming in pain after all the reckless carelessness, but it wasn’t like Harry would admit that to Louis anytime soon. He wasn’t made of glass and he sure as hell wasn’t going to just lay around dying of boredom when he could be doing all of this.

All of this included snooping around a bit, of course.

The house, you see. Well, the mansion, more like. It was even more impressive from close up rather than just peeked through the tiny window of the hut, across the wide yard.

The main entrance was facing away from the hut and towards the endless snow-covered fields. Every now and then a scattering of trees cut through the even flatness of the view, but then there was another field behind those branches, and then another, and another. The mountains were in the opposite direction, barely visible behind the forest Louis had disappeared into earlier.

It was gorgeous, the scenery, and the house was right there, hugged and cradled by it all. The massive windows along the front had to have the most insane, almost panoramic view of the vast nature and the sky. And the view just kept going and going until Harry couldn’t differentiate the details anymore.

The short stairs leading up to the front door were under a high, protruding roof. The snow hadn’t been able to reach the upper steps, revealing the well-used state of them. The wooden boards had thin layers of ice where the main route to the door clearly fell, the steps worn down over time and denting in just so, allowing some water to gather.

Harry’s nails clicked on the wood as he walked up to the massive pair of doors. There was only the smell of the winter in the air and the decaying scent of old leaves from the past autumn faintly beneath it.  

Harry had already figured as much but the vacant echo of the house just confirmed further that it was unoccupied. Probably had been so for a long while.     

The air was icy in Harry’s nose as he sniffed around the front of the building. It was easier to move there with his three legs and without the tall layer of snow, but the wooden boards were slippery with frozen condensation. Harry only slipped a little as he pushed up against one of the windowsills.

He had his front legs supporting most of his weight while his only working hind leg tried its best to keep the whole show going. It wasn’t going particularly well; his muscles were already fatigued from playing around and just from his poor health in general. The cold was slowly seeping through his fur too, as he wasn’t moving enough to keep warm.

Still, Harry couldn’t resist peering inside the house. He was too curious and probably just as cabin fevered as Louis, by this point, and the craving for something new and interesting was enough. Besides, there couldn’t be any harm in it. It was just a house.

Louis probably disagreed with that statement but he disagreed with pretty much everything anyway. He also refused to discuss the house, at all, so basically it was his own fault Harry had to snoop.

Had the man been there he would’ve probably wrestled Harry away rather than allowed him to have _any fun_ , but Louis wasn’t there now, was he?

The leg Harry was balancing on was getting tired way too quickly for him to enjoy the interior of the house in peace. It was annoying, and so was the way the window kept fogging up because of his breath, which forced him to stretch his neck to see anything.  

Behind the fog and his gross wet nose prints opened a cozy looking hallway and a room that seemed to be the dining room. The space was so large it was a miracle it managed to look as homey as it did. Without any artificial light it was hard to see much further into the house, but Harry could already tell it was lovely. Even though it was empty of people and life, it was so clearly a home that it was hard not to feel welcomed by the atmosphere of it.

There were pictures lined up on the wall behind the long, heavy dining table, but they were too far and too shadowed to make out. On the low but long bookshelf, pushed against the wall along the hallway, laid cards and notes. Next to those were some pens and a pair of burned candles.

The signs of the people that had once lived there were all over, even if their scents no longer lingered.                

Harry sighed, not even close to being satisfied with his findings, but his leg was about to give out, so he gave in.

With his injured leg still dangling uselessly up and against his belly, Harry dropped down from the window. He just barely stayed upright when his paws slipped on the ice as he landed. His clumsiness wouldn’t have mattered, normally, but while he was scrambling to stay up on his feet, Harry noticed someone watching him.    

Two someones, actually.

Being caught clumsy and vulnerable definitely wasn’t the best position to be in, ever. Two against one, and the fact that Harry had about the same amount of strength as a dry twig, wasn’t really any better.      

Harry’s tail was quivering tight against his stomach, knocking into his leg that was already hurting from before. His ears pressed down and back against his skull, and Harry bared his teeth in a feeble attempt of looking like he could totally handle this.    

The smaller of the wolves rolled their eyes.

Which… Okay.

And then the other wolf rumbled out a familiar call, having Harry’s ears immediately jump back up and forward, his heart rate jumping with the sound too. The first, smaller wolf, repeated the short call, and Harry stood up from the hunch he had fallen into.

That was when the third wolf tackled into the first two, teeth violently bared and a nasty snarl ripping through the calm.

-

“I’m fine, Louis, I swear,” Harry repeated for the hundredth time. He sighed and pretended to be annoyed when Louis forced another jumper of his over his head. “Seriously. You were there almost before I even noticed them.”

“That’s...” Louis cut himself off just to shake his head. He was looking at Harry—who was sitting happy and _healthy_ and well protected on the bed—with a pained expression on his face. “That’s- somehow even worse.”

Harry huffed, and caught Louis’ hand into his own before it managed to start checking him for injuries again.

“Just calm down, okay?” Harry said, a bit amused and secretly pleased about all the attention he was getting. He kept a tight hold on Louis’ hand—it was Harry’s now—and leaned against the edge of the table to look out the window, just to check.

Louis was way too tense next to him, just like he had been the past fifteen minutes they had spent back in the hut. His scent was still spiked with something tangy and sharp, that clear remnant of the harsh but short brawl making Harry’s nose itch.

They both were chilled and damp from the snow, the layers of clothing only slowly starting to heat them back up. Louis had attempted to start the fire twice already, only to be distracted away from it to force more clothes on Harry. Or to check on Harry. Or to manhandle Harry onto the bed. He also kept ranting, well, mostly about Harry being so careless, but also about the intruders in general.  

Harry knew it was just the alpha’s adrenaline boiling for the most part, so he went along with it all pretty easily. The fact that he _had been_ a bit spooked by the sudden aggression, no matter how much he was trying to hide it, made it easier to allow Louis’ stupidly overboard reaction.             

“No one comes this deep into the forest. It’s obviously taken land,” Louis was repeating, once again. “What… Why’d… Any ideas who they could’ve been?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Harry answered distractedly, still peering out the window. It was dark enough already that he barely saw anything past his own reflection on the almost black surface.

Louis jerked back around from where he had turned to eye the unlit fireplace, and the obvious double-take at the words was enough to catch Harry’s curiosity.

“What?” Louis asked, brows furrowed and startled confusion clear on his face. “You know them?”

Harry shifted his gaze to Louis, cautious now as his reaction was... a bit off.

Harry shrugged, careful, and watched the alpha, “Yeah? I mean.” Harry licked over his lips. “Yes?”

Louis just kept looking at him.

“Otto and Wylie... From- my pack?” Harry continued, chin tilting down as unsureness started to take over his body. Louis’ face was doing the whole intense murder thing he had going on sometimes, and Harry was starting to worry that he probably should’ve mentioned this information a bit earlier. Not that it mattered. Louis had dealt with it. Them.

“Your pack?” Louis asked incredulously, his brows inching higher up in disbelief. Harry nodded, a small, puzzled movement.

“Yes?”

Harry was very much lost with the conversation, if it could even be called one as it made no sense, whatsoever.

“But they left?” Louis tone was even more incredulous, if possible, and his voice was rising with it.

He moved up on the bed, only stopping when he was kneeling right by Harry’s side on the edge of it, and just… glared again.

“Well,” Harry said slowly, swallowing down some of the happy nerves that started to buzz underneath his skin when Louis got close enough to loom over him. Which was what the alpha was doing; _looming._ What a creep. He was lucky Harry liked him at all. “You kind of chased them away?”

Louis scoffed. And glared.

Then he shook his head, mouth pulling down into something that was a cross between disbelieve and displeasure. Harry could only shrug, helplessly, when the man looked at him, clearly expecting some sort of explanation.

“They are your pack,” Louis stated then, after a long pause. It wasn’t a question, which was good because they had already established that, and Harry would’ve seriously been worried for Louis’ mental state if he hadn’t gotten that part yet. “And they left?”

Or maybe he should still worry about it?

“Yes, Louis,” Harry sighed, “I know them, they’re from my pack, and they left because you chased them away.”

“Why would they leave you?” Louis snapped, surprising Harry with the sudden harshness of his words.

 _You chased them away_ , was sitting awkwardly on Harry’s tongue again but he figured it was for the best to keep from repeating that. _And why wouldn’t they?_ was swallowed down as well.

Instead he ducked his head and hunched his shoulders, as if that would ever be able to shield him from the fact how much Louis wanted him gone.

It didn’t make sense, what Louis was saying. Or was trying to say. But it was cruel, that was for sure.

Harry bit his teeth together, jaws clenching.

“If you wanted me gone so bad...” Harry hadn’t really been planning on saying anything but apparently something ugly was burning way too bright within him, all of a sudden. The words came pouring, choppy and harshly gritted out from between his teeth, “maybe you should’ve let them get to me, instead of attacking them.”

The silence, this time around, stretched way longer, way heavier. Harry could only hear his own pulse pounding in his ears.

“Bruin...” Louis spoke softly, the bed shifting under his weight as he moved.

The man’s sigh was audible when Harry just bared his teeth into a wolfish grimace, eyes down, upset.   

“Harry, look at me.”

Another heavy, weary exhale.

“Please.”

Harry finally did look up then, albeit reluctantly. He defensively tucked his fingers under his crossed arms as he did so.

For once it was him who glared. Louis held his gaze.

He looked tired again, Harry noticed, and there was something guarded in his eyes. Harry didn’t have time to focus on that though.

Louis lifted his arm and softly touched the underside of Harry’s chin with the knuckle of his index finger.

Harry had to force himself into narrowing his eyes further, jaws working as he grinded his teeth together. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted, no matter how soft Louis was being.

“I don’t want you gone.” Louis’ voice was gruff and he looked uncomfortably tense, pushing the words out in a way that seemed almost painful. “I don’t… It’s not that.”

He looked evasive, then, and Harry couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Harry knew he was naive, okay?

He knew nothing about love. About being _in_ love. How would he? He had no experience in this, no idea how he was supposed to be feeling. And more importantly, he had no idea how to tell if the other person felt anything like it towards him.

Except, right now, it seemed pretty obvious.

Louis. Prickly and dismissive Louis. Was Harry being incredibly stupid thinking that what he was feeling for the man was love? Did he even know him? Really know him. Did he _have to_ know him to feel like that? Harry knew he felt _safe_ around Louis, no matter how bad mannered the alpha was behaving, but...

This probably was how people got hurt. And Harry already was hurt. He didn’t need heartbreak on top of everything.

And… Harry already felt _so much_ just dealing with his usual wandering thoughts, but after meeting Louis… It was almost scary to realise he had no idea how to protect himself from this. From his own feelings. He had no idea what to do, in general. Was he…

Should he tell Louis?

Ah. Maybe not.

Because maybe Louis would just laugh in his face, call him naive and gullible and childish and...

Harry grimaced and felt the hurt echo through him even just from the imaginary scenario. Look at him go, hurting himself before someone else even got the chance.

No. The feelings he had for Louis was too precious to be risked. No matter how imperfect Louis might be, the feelings were already there. And Harry wanted to protect it, even if the feelings would never be returned. He would protect it even from Louis himself.

Especially from Louis.

Especially after the man wasn’t even able to lie properly about wanting Harry there. Because that reply Louis had just offered?

Well. Wasn’t that just… Lame.

“Yeah, right,” Harry said humorlessly.

He tilted his head to the side, away from Louis’ touch, and scowled at the table top. Usually he felt snug and safe with the way the dining table blocked the bed against the wall but now he’d have appreciated some more space to move away.   

“I mean it,” Louis said, just as aimlessly as before, hand hanging in the air between them.

Harry shook his head, sighing, the disappointment curling up together with something sad and sorrowful, and clenched around his heart.

“Just... Don’t, okay?” Harry asked, almost pleading, eyes dropping down as he tried to hide his hurt. He didn’t want to hear the pity and some half-arsed lies. At least he deserved a straight up rejection, if nothing else.

It was stupid of him, anyway, to feel this affected. He had known what he was dealing with from the very beginning. Louis hadn’t exactly hidden his distaste at any point. Harry had just been stupid enough to listen to his gullible, overeager feelings, and his wolf, instead of actually using his brain.

His stupid touch starved and malfunctioning brain.

Stupid brain that completely shut off when there suddenly were warm hands on each side of his face and a forehead against his own.

And Louis’ eyes were very blue and very intense. Very close.

“I mean it.” Louis’ words fell hotly over Harry’s mouth, almost right _there_ yet still not touching. “It’s _not_ that.”

Harry was barely breathing.

He just stared, completely captivated by the strong look in Louis’ eyes. It was a stark contrast to the way he was touching Harry; thumbs sweeping over his cheeks, under his eyes, gentling and reassuring.

The touches were feather light but there was a tremor in Louis’ hands again.  

“They shouldn’t have left you behind without checking,” Louis said quietly, tilting his chin until his lips were pressed against Harry’s hot cheek. “I want you here, and… Maybe you want to be here too?” Harry let out a shaky breath, and nodded, the movement barely there. Louis’ gruff was rough against Harry’s skin, leaving burning reminders along the side of his face. “They didn’t know that and they still left you behind.”

The end of the sentence was laced with something sharp and heavy.

The lips against Harry’s were soft.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not actively writing anything new at the moment but this chapter only needed editing (well, it probably still needs some more editing but I figured it's been long enough since the last update.) so here it is.
> 
> I had some lovely anons on tumblr sending ideas for this story and that helped me out more than you can imagine. Thank you so much whoever you are, this chapter wouldn't be here without those messages. 
> 
> Thank you xx
> 
> -
> 
> shyshyserious.tumblr.com  
> sshyserious@gmail.com


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